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UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. 















“WHEN HIS GRIT IS UP HE CAN PASS ANYTHING ON 

Page 47. 


THE ROAD.” 



HOW BILLY WENT UP IN 
THE WORLD. 


A STORY FOR BOYS. 


BT / 


ANNETTE L. NOBLE , 


AUTHOR OF “ THE QUEER HOME IN RUGBY COURT,” ETC., ETC. 



New York : 


( 


j ) 

X 

' C/ry OF W) 0 : 


National Temperance Society and Publication House, 
No. 58 READE STREET. 


883. 




Copyright, 1883, 

BY 

National Temperance Society and Publication House, 


PRINTED BY E. O. JENKINS, 20 N. WILLIAM ST., NEW YORK. 


STEREOTYPED BY THE ORPHANS, ON THE CHURCH CHARITY FOUNDATION 






CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER PAGE 

i. — The Balloon 5 

11. — The Minstrel Troupe . . . . 18 

hi. — P eter the Tailor 29 

iv. — The Real Beginning. .... 40 

v. — Prissy Tarbox 54 

vi. — A Purification. . . . . . 71 

vii. — Billy puts an Enemy to Rout . . .94 

viii. — A New Sight of Old Things . . . no 

ix. — Three Years Later . . . . .145 

x. — A New Impulse ..... 166 

xi. — At the Red Cottage . . . . .185 

xii. — Snared and Struggling . . . .208 

xiii. — A Struggle Ended ..... 236 

xiv. — A New Departure . . . . * 253 

xv. — A Faded Rainbow ..... 268 

xvi. — Father Hamilton’s Test . . . . 285 

xvii. — A Random Shot. . . . . *315 

xviii. — ‘ ‘ What Shall the Harvest be ?” . . 333 

xix. — Nan Makes a Discovery .... 349 

xx. — The Same Question. . . . .361 

xxi. — The Question Answered .... 369 

xxii. — Mrs. Bernard’s Slight Mistake . . *378 

























V 















* 











HOW BILLY WENT UP IN 
THE WORLD. 


CHAPTER I. 


THE BALLOON. 



'HIS is the story of a boy who had red 


A hair, a good appetite, and much else in 
common with other boys ; one who rose very 
high in the world, and who came down and 
rose again, not so high, but in a better way. 
He was not a genius, or I should not tell his 
story ; for there are so many boy geniuses 
now r -a-days in books that the record of a com- 
mon red-haired child may be more interest- 
ing, as a change. 

One day, fifteen years ago, there had 
been a county fair in Langham. The 


6 How Billy went Up in the W orld. 

grounds were full of people, even at six 
o’clock in the afternoon. But under the tent 
the gay bed-spreads, the oil-paintings, the 
hair flowers, and the wax-works were being 
taken down, while the farmers’ wives were 
exchanging compliments, sample biscuit, and 
currant jelly. Outside the canvas the men 
were taking away the cattle — the great 
oxen with prize tickets on their horns, or 
sheep, or swine, or poultry. Everywhere 
there was bellowing, grunting, shouting, 
scolding, and some grumbling. This last 
was chiefly done by a noisy party who came 
to the fair, not to bring the grain, or cattle 
raised by their industry, but to stare at the 
two-headed calf never raised by anybody, to 
bet on horses, to steal water-melons, and to 
join at last the crowd that was elbowing 
around a man with a balloon, in which he 
was to go up when ready. This balloon, 
already inflated, was fastened by a rope to 
a well-driven stake, and floated a little way 


The Balloon . 


7 


above the grouhd. Among the lookers-on, 
some who pretended^ to know declared that 
it was not a very good balloon, and must 
surely come to grief. 

After a while the man drew down the car 
low enough to get into it, and cried out : 
“ Does anybody wish to accompany us in 
our grand aerial flight ?” He said “ us,” 
as sounding fine ; but he immediately ex- 
plained that he would take a light gentle- 
man only. 

In a moment there shot from the crowd a 
long-legged keen-eyed boy about fourteen 
years old, who nimbly stowed himself into 
the car, amid great laughter and shouts of 
“ There goes Billy Knox !” “ Good-night, 

Billy !” “ Bring us down a star, Billy !” and 

like efforts at wit. 

“ Did you ever see a chap so ready and 
willing to risk his life for nothing?” asked 
somebody ; and another man answered 
coolly, “ ’Tain’t no loss if he does break his 


8 How Billy went Up in the World. 

neck; nobody owns him, and 'the world will 
be well rid of him.” . 

Billy heard the heartless words, and turn- 
ed to look at the speaker, while the owner 
of the machine arranged the ropes before 
getting into the car. 

Suddenly, like a bubble from a pipe bowl, 
up rose the balloon, Billy in and the man 
out ! The crowd gave a gasp of surprise, 
the man stared stupidly, and then, just too 
late, leaped up like an acrobat, and clutched 
— only air ! Billy, moving slowly up, sat 
like a statue ; but loud and clear came down 
from the car a cry, not of terror, almost one 
of triumph. 

“ He’ll be killed, sure,” said the former 
speaker, emphatically; and his companion 
echoed, “ Don’t seem to care a bit about it 
either, just as you said.” 

Some of the people thought it a trick of 
the owner of the balloon, but his frantic de- 
nial and his evident distress at the loss of 


The Balloon . 


9 


his property proved it to have been a mis- 
hap. Meanwhile the news flew like the 
wind over the field, and in a moment hun- 
dreds of faces were upturned toward the 
vanishing balloon. Everybody hoped the 
boy would not meet a dreadful death, 
though a goodly number said it might bet- 
ter be Billy than any one else ; and all alike 
watched, not sorry, if such a thing must 
happen, that they were there to see it. 

Up, up, went the car, and “ nobody’s 
boy,” was rising far above the earth. The 
sunset light smote his red hair, and made it 
glitter like gold. But Billy was soon too 
far away for the crowd to jeer at him, even 
if the roughest could have done so while the 
boy was in such terrible peril. 

Billy looked down once and shouted. 
Then he began to wish that his conveyance 
would travel sideways, instead of rising so 
steadily. 

It occurred to him at last that if the man 


io How Billy went Up in the World. 

who owned the balloon were in the car, he 
would probably turn some “ stop-cock,” or 
other, and let himself down. However, 
Billy was not sure that he wanted to go 
down, even if he could. 

As he rose higher and higher, the people 
on the ground below him began to look like 
small things crawling, and the great white 
tent almost like a card-board house. He 
questioned whether or not he should meddle 
with any mysterious part of the balloon. 
He remembered, not unpleasantly, having 
heard some one early in the day say it 
would certainly collapse of itself. If collapse 
meant to come down, to meddle with it might 
be to turn on steam and send him beyond 
the sun and moon, where he had no desire 
to go. He sailed across a forest, over a 
river, lost sight of the fair ground, and then 
began to come nearer earth, slowly nearer, 
then faster, the car rocking in a way that 
threatened to dump him out. 


The Balloon. 


1 1 

“ We are surely ‘collapsing,’ ” thought 
Billy. He grew a little dizzy, the earth 
seemed coming to meet him, and all the 
houses, barns and hay-stacks were inflated, 
in their turn, and getting bigger. At last a 
gnarled old tree that had been charging 
straight on the balloon, ran into it, upset, 
tore it, and after entangling Billy in ropes 
and branches, tearing his clothes, scratching 
his hands, and switching him like an old- 
time school-marm, let him fall roughly down 
to earth. He was glad to lie quiet, thinking 
first of the torn balloon, then of himself. 

While he was thinking, the words that he 
had heard that afternoon as he entered the 
car came back to him : “ Nobody owns him, 
and the world will be well rid of him.” 

Heretofore he had been proud of the fact 
that nobody owned him. He had never 
thought of himself as a nuisance to the com- 
munity. Billy had not much sentiment, but 
to-night his heart ached as well as his limbs. 


12 How Billy went Up in the World. 

He had thought of all his past life as in- 
tently as a boy could think. He had begun 
to take care of himself when he was only eight 
years old. He dimly remembered his poor 
mother as always enveloped in the steam 
from hot soap-suds, a practical kind of a 
halo, the result of her efforts to feed him 
with honestly earned bread. She died and 
left him to the care of a drunken father, who 
two years later followed her to the grave. 

The town gave Billy a home in the poor- 
house, but he stayed there only three days. 
At the end of it he resolved to start out into 
the world and earn his own bread. He ran 
away to the nearest city, where he blacked 
boots, sold papers, learned a certain, amount 
of evil in the streets, and some good in a 
night school. Finally he tired of city life, 
and started for California ; but after getting 
ten miles on the way, his money gave out, 
and his courage too. He found himself in 
the town of Langham, and there he staid, 


The Balloon. 


13 


doing odd jobs when he could get them, and at 
other times amusing himself as best he could. 

There never was a fire that Billy was not 
close behind the hose-cart, or a circus that he 
did not ride the kicking donkey, or a county 
fair where he was not present looking out for 
anything in the way of fun that offered. His 
last undertaking was going up in a balloon. 
Now here he was, down again, and the ques- 
tion was, what should he do next ? 

A boy in a book would have decided to be- 
come a judge, or a merchant, or an artist ; 
but Billy had another ambition. He desired 
to become a negro minstrel. He knew one, 
a man who wore fine clothes and had plenty 
of money. He earned it by being funny — 
oh, so extremely funny. 

While Billy was considering the matter, he 
heard a voice, and looking up, saw a man fol- 
lowing a cow. Naturally enough, the balloon 
attracted the man's attqption, and he came 
near enough to discover the boy. 


14 How Billy went (Jp in the World. 

A conversation followed, in which the whole 
story was told. 

“Well,” said Billy’s new friend, who proved 
to be a tailor in a very small way of business, 
“ how do you feel now ?” 

“ Lonesome, and sort of empty.” 

“ Do you mean hungry ?” 

“ Perhaps that’s it,” said Billy. 

“ Then you may come home with me to- 
night,” said the man, “ and after supper I’ll 
see if the balloon is spoiled.” 

“ It is only collapsed,” said Billy, very 
pompously ; but when, on getting up to walk, 
he found his clothing reduced to about half 
what he had before, he assumed* a meeker 
tone, and followed his new friend thankfully. 
The cow going first, turned down a lane bor- 
dered with sunflowers, and stopped before the 
door of a wee red house. A moment after, a 
small figure with a tin pail came out of the 
house, and sat dowr^to milk the cow. 

“ This is my son Ben,” said the host. 


The Balloon . 


15 


At first Billy had taken the child for a girl, 
for the little boy’s checked apron came down 
to his copper-toed shoes, and he wore a 
green sun-bonnet, under which Billy saw soft 
white hair, and a very sweet face. They en- 
tered a kitchen, small, bare, but very clean, 
where a table was spread with blue dishes, 
brown bread, baked apples, and cold pork. 
In the chimney-corner sat a little old woman, 
who sang as she rocked. She was very 
deaf, but she smiled on Billy, on the tailor, 
and on her little grandson. She would have 
smiled on anybody, as to that. But a grand- 
mother’s kind face being new to Billy, he 
thought it beautiful. He found the supper 
exceedingly good, if not very abundant, and 
he was interested in watching Ben. The 
child soberly washed the dishes, and neatly 
swept up the crumbs, saying very little. The 
reason for his silence was after a while appa- 
rent to Billy : little Ben stuttered. 

After supper, the room being warm, and 


1 6 How Billy went Up in the World, 

Billy being tired, he dozed in a corner of the 
old lounge. While he slept the tailor went 

to see about the balloon, and stayed a long 

« 

time. 

Later in the evening Billy was awakened 
by a voice. Ben was reading to his grand- 
mother. She had her cap off, and her hair 
was as white as snow. She was warming 
her feet over the last coals, while Ben held a 
candle in one hand, and bent over an old book. 

“ ‘ He shall call upon me, and I will an- 
swer him/ ” read the boy, in his awkward, 
stuttering tones. “ ‘ I will be with him in 
trouble. I will deliver him, and honor him. 
With long life will I satisfy him, and show 
him my salvation.’ ” 

Billy did not catch the last word, for the 
child could scarcely pronounce it, but he 
asked, abruptly, “Who will do it?” 

The old grandmother heard the boy’s 
voice, and answered : “ God will do it all for 
those who love Him.” 


The Balloon. 


17 


“ Folks like you, old and good, I suppose,” 
added Billy, as she tottered away to bed. 

Once she would have stopped to teach 
him some holy lesson, but now she had crept 
in her feebleness so close to the door of hea- 
ven that she was forgetful of all darkness that 
might be behind her for younger travellers. 
Billy fell asleep again, then waked up blink- 
ing. The outer door was open, and Ben was 
pulling, bracing, . and otherwise guiding his 
father into the house. 

When the tailor was safely dumped into a 
wooden chair, he began to jabber about the 
“ b’loon, you know — scientif ’ — t xperiment. 
If I got a chance — like to own b’l >on myself 
— always was scientific.” 

“ Humph ! that’s it, is it ?” said Billy, 
stretching out again for the night. He had 
seen too much of life to be either shocked qr 
surprised. Doubtless Ben coul i get his 
drunken father to bed alone; ai d the child 
did indeed do it, as he often had done it before. 


2 


CHAPTER II. 

THE MINSTREL TROUPE. 

TT was a spring evening, so very fair that 
-*■ even Billy Knox had taste enough to be 
pleased with the robins, the hedges, and the 
May blossoms. He was halting on his way 
home, under the tree into which he had 
fallen eight months before. The balloon 
was not there ; it’s owner had it back long 
ago. 

That Billy had a home is to be accounted 
for in this way : The evening after Peter the 
tailor took him in to supper, he remained 
overnight, and after breakfast he went out 
and milked the cow. He walked to the 
woods and chopped fuel enough for a week. 
Then he staid to dinner. During the after- 


The Minstrel Troupe. 19 

noon he found three cents in what was left 
of his trousers pocket, and he put that at 
once into the family treasury. In the days 
that followed he haunted the next town, a 
larger one than Langham. Whenever he 
earned anything he returned with it to the 
red house with the sunflowers, where, with- 
out any talk about it, he came at last to con- 
sider himself at home. He brought in as much 
as he ate. He amused little Ben, and made 
his life much more exciting. Peter did not 
care how long he staid, so that he paid his 
way. 

On this particular evening Billy seemed in 
the highest spirits. He leaped up joyously 
and hung from the branches of the tree. He 
was prancing about like a colt, when down 
the lane came a man, but not Peter. This 
time it was Squire Ellery, who owned the 
house in which Peter lived. He was a hard- 
working, quiet-appearing farmer, respected 
by everybody. 


20 How Billy went Up in the World ’ 

“ I ain’t going to do it,” exclaimed the 
boy, hastily. 

“ What are you going to do instead ? ” 
asked the man. ‘'Are you going to grow 
up a loafer and turn out a tramp ? ” 

“ No ; I have got something prime on hand 
that suits me exactly.” 

“What is it?” 

“Well,” began Billy, “you know the An- 
nerly Minstrel Troupe, don’t you?” 

“Yes, I know of them.” 

“They stay in the town all winter, but 
summers they go travelling around the coun- 
try. I have been helping them for nothing 
lately — odd jobs off and on —and they like 
me. Once, when the ‘end-man’ was sick, I 
took his place at the last minute, and I made 
so much fun that the manager said he would 
take me along this summer and make a crack 
performer of me. He will give me some 
clothes, and when I get valuable to him he 
will pay me well. Ain’t that something like ?” 


21 


The Minstrel Troupe. 

“Yes, Billy Knox, it is something like 
— something like a monkey, more like a fool 
— for you to smut your face, to tell silly 
jokes, to grin and giggle and dress up in pet- 
ticoats at night, that you may learn to swear 
and drink and gamble by day. That is 
what it is like, exactly.” 

The farmer laid his hard hand on the boy's 
red head, but his voice was soft, as he said 
kindly: “Take more time to think it all 
over, Billy. Remember, I promise to feed, 
clothe, and send you to school winters, and 
when you get valuable to me I will also pay 
you wages. Your work will be hoeing corn 
and potatoes instead of braying like a don- 
key or thrumming on a banjo ; but you will 
respect yourself a good deal more. It will be 
better to wash the sweat of honest labor off 
your face than to be smearing it into a black- 
amoor’s. I will help you make a man of 
yourself if you are only willing and ready, 
Billy.” 


22 How Billy went Up in the World. 

The boy thought of dull days in the fields, 
with oxen for companions ; then of foot-lights, 
gay music, and laughter. He rubbed his 
boots on the grass, and muttered : “ Much 
obliged, Mr. Ellery, but I ain’t ready for that, 
nor willing either, in your way of doing it.” 

“ Very well ; I have said all I am going to 
say. I shall never ask you again.” 

Billy trudged home rather soberly. He 
opened the cottage door a little later, and at 
his footfall Ben sprang from the pantry and 
stood anxiously watching his pockets. Billy 
knew exactly what it meant. Ben had gone 
to the cupboard: “And when he got there 
the cupboard was bare.” This had often 
happened of late. Billy pulled out of one 
pocket a few slices of bacon, and out of an- 
other a tiny paper of tea, saying: “Granny, 
I have got you some to-night — tea, granny.” 

“O yes. When you were in your cradle, I 
told my husband you would live to take care 
of me.” 


The Minstrel Troupe . 


23 


“ She thinks you are father,” stuttered 
Ben, as he got out the frying-pan. Soon 
the whole place was filled with the welcome 
odor of bacon and tea. Billy cut some bread, 
and seizing granny’s chair, pushed it to the 
table. He stared at her while she asked her 
blessing, and idly watched the sunbeams in 
the rusty lace of her old cap. When she 
opened her eyes, which were as blue as a 
baby’s, she added, tenderly : “ God bless 

you, dear: you brought us a good supper.” 

It was seldom that she spoke so coherent- 
ly, but a bit of a prayer often seemed to 
clear for a moment her mind, as a precious 
drop might act in some unsettled mixture. 

“ What if granny should not have any sup- 
per some night when I am gone ?” was the 
thought that rushed into the boy’s mind, and 
into his eyes came tears. His heart was 
touched by the thought. What preachers 
and teachers and offers of help had never 
been able to effect, the trustful gratitude of a 


24 How Billy went Up in the World. 

feeble little old woman had accomplished. 
He choked, spluttered, and pretended he had 
swallowed the tea the wrong way. Then he 
did like unto sinners the world over — he 
tried to harden his heart again. He reflect- 
ed that this was Peter’s home and Peter’s 
mother. It was Peter’s business to support 
his own family. It was Billy’s business to 
rise in the world. 

After supper he made ready for certain 
exercises very common in the cabin of late 
— exercises which he considered likely to 
improve him in his chosen “profession.” He 
pushed granny’s chair back into the chimney- 
corner, and waited until she dozed before he 
exclaimed, “ Come, Ben ! ” 

Poor Ben ! his face grew more mournful 
than ever. It was no longer any fun for 
him, but he patiently consented, and arrang- 
ed the stage “ properties.” He tied on his 
own and Billy’s black masks and their stiff 
paper collars, wishing much that his own did 


The Minstrel Troupe. 25 

not so savagely cut his poor little ears. He 
then sat meekly down at the end of the semi- 
circle of seats and solemnly got off all the 
laboriously learned jokes that his stammering 
tongue could compass. He surrendered him- 
self to Billy in a waltz that made every lock 
of his lint-white hair fly out straight, and 
which finally left him breathless under the 
table legs. 

Well, after Ben had been, with some 
changes of costume, a giraffe, a Zulu, a 
Broadway belle, and a propounder of conun- 
drums, he became so incapable of being any- 
thing else but a tired little boy, that Billy re- 
lented, and let him lie on the ragged old 
lounge. In the quiet that followed, the older 
boy’s brain began to work upon a question 
that worried him much. Should he go on a 
farm, or should he follow his own fascinating 
plan ? He waked up Ben, and told, in a 
most engaging way, of the wonderful min- 
strel career which opened before him, and he 


26 How Billy went Up in the World. 

reported Squire Ellery’s offer, but not his 
words of disapproval. Now Ben, who was 
but eight years old, had his own thoughts, 
and all the more of them, that he gave so few 
away in words. 

“ If it was me,” said little Ben, promptly, 
if somewhat sleepily, “ I would rather be 
out in the sunlight making th-th -things gr- 
gr-grow. Wheat fields are so pretty, and 
I like ca-ca-cattle. They always seem to 
know me if I co-co-come near them. I never 
would dance until I got dizzy if I could help 
it. I think it is si-si-silly; it ain’t being a man.” 

Billy gazed at Ben, somewhat surprised. 
Here were words almost like Squire Ellery’s, 
coming as if they were quoted from out of 
this Hop-o’-my-Thumb. 

“Ben,” he said, “you don’t really know 
anything about minstrel shows* Some day I 
will take you to the regular thing.” 

“ I would rather stay here and read to 
granny. I should be afraid.” 


The Minstrel Troupe . 27 

“ Stay, then, you little coward !” said BIMy, 
roughly. 

Granny dozed and snored softly ; the lean 
cat sprang into Ben’s arms, and they slept 
peacefully together ; while Billy walked the 
room, and peered out of the window-panes. 
He half decided that he would go to the 
farmer in the morning. Then he half decided 
that he never would go. At last granny 
awoke, and said, “ Bring the Book and read 
good words ; we have had enough of this 
day.” 

Ben would not wake up. He really could 
not do so after his hard evening exercises ; 
and when Billy shook him, the cat took Ben’s 
part, and scratched Billy resentfully. 

“ Well, I would as soon read as to hear 
him stutter over it,” said the older boy, get- 
ting the Bible, the cover of which had been 
bright and fresh when granny had been so 
herself. Now it was as nearly out of its 
binding as was her soul. 


28 How Billy went Up in the World. 

“ ‘ The children of Ephraim, being armed, 
and carrying bows, turned back in the day 
of battle,’ ” read Billy, just where he opened 
the Book. Then he asked, “ Wouldn’t they 
fight ?” 

“ Able, but not willing to do what a body 
ought to do. I don’t remember about the 
fighting. Perhaps it was only to endure 
something. Now I will go to bed,” said 
granny, forgetting that Billy had read but 
one verse. 

- When he was left alone, he sat and pon- 
dered on those children of Ephraim until 
Peter tumbled into the house in his usual 
state. Then he let Ben sleep on, and he 
himself helped the tailor to bed, doing it 
with much less ceremony than the latter ap- 
proved of. 


CHAPTER III. 


PETER THE TAILOR. 

/^vNE day it happened that the tailor had 
not been home for twenty-four hours. 
Billy’s coming into his family had made 
Peter very negligent. When he failed to 
bring food for the old woman and child, he 
assured himself that most likely Billy would 
get some. Peter was sure he ought to do 
that much for the shelter of a comfortable 
home. So every week the tailor drank 
more and staid away from that home long- 
er ; but Billy, wholly absorbed in his own 
plans, hardly noticed the fact ; and Ben 
never complained of anything that could be 
endured. As long as the cow had fresh 
grass, they had milk, and did not suffer. If 


30 How Billy went Up in the World. 

it happened that Billy heard granny ask for 
meat, he got it for her ; if not, she went 
without and forgot it from one meal-time to 
another. Indeed, she forgot everything but 
her Bible. 

Well, as I have just said, Peter had not 
been home for twenty-four hours. Sunset 
came, and Billy did not return. The min- 
strel troupe were getting ready to leave 
town, and he was probably with them. The 
cow did not come home as she had often 
been accustomed to do, of her own accord. 

All these non-appearances made Ben very 
uneasy. He laid the table with empty 
dishes, and then watched on the door-steps. 
The stars came out and winked at him ; the 
crickets made lonesome music. Presently 
granny tottered across the room, took up an 
empty cup, and shook her head musingly. 

“ Was the tea strong to-night, dearie ?” 
she asked. “It seems as if it must have 
been poor stuff, I feel so weak.” 


Peter the Tailor, 


3i 


“ You have not had any, granny, but I 
guess we will s-soo — ” began Ben, and then 
stopped. It did not seem worth while to 
stutter long over a thing so doubtful. But 
when the old clock struck eight, Ben took 
his torn hat from the peg behind the door 
and said, “I am going after Brownie; she 
must have got into Mr. Ellery’s pasture.” 

“ Yes, child. The green pastures and 
still waters,” answered the old woman. 
“ And there is the Shepherd, you know. I 
shall not want.” 

“ There isn’t any shepherd there, and we 
must go after our own cow when she stays 
away, granny.” 

Ben shut the door gently then, and went 
down undef the sunflowers along the road 
and over a narrow bridge, stopping to look 
into the rapid stream where the cattle came 
to drink at noon-time. Yes, sly Brownie 
was in the neighbor’s pasture ; but she took 
little Ben’s grave rebuke very meekly, as 


32 How Billy went Up in the World. 

became a good cow, and started awa} r home. 
She reached the bridge and clattered over 
it, her hoofs shaking the unsteady planks. 

As soon as he saw her headed in the right 
direction, Ben lingered to look longingly up 
the main road, for it was not so dark that he 
could not see if any one should happen to be 
coming down that road. He was just turn- 
ing to go on, when he discovered a man in 
the distance. As Ben saw him walking first 
in the dusty road, then in the dewy may- 
weed of the border, now here, now there, he 
sped briskly toward him to act as a walking- 
stick. How often he had performed this sad 
duty before! Yet there was no hesitation 
or delay in the way he sprang forward to 
help the unhappy father, who had done so 
little for his child. 

“ Humph ! I should think you had better 
be on hand — leaving poor fellow to find hi 3 
way home all ’lone this time night.” 

Ben did not answer He had all he could 


Peter the Tailor . 


33 


do to keep his small feet out from under 
Peter’s great boots, and to keep both 
himself and his unhappy parent from falling 
to the ground. At the bridge they made 
more noise than even the cow had made in 
crossing. The old planks creaked and rat- 
tled, while Peter lurched from one side to 
another. 

“ Take care, father ! See, oh, s-s-see !” 
stuttered Ben. “ You go too near the 
edge !” 

The shrill warning came too late. Peter 
staggered, pitched, and reeled over into the 
brown water. One hand vainly snatching 
at Ben, only tore the shabby straw hat off 
his head. The poor child gave a long, loud 
shriek for help. Fear loosened his stam- 
mering tongue, and the cry, “ Father will 
drown ! Come, oh, come !” rang out wildly 
over the fields. Meanwhile, by kneeling, 
he had seized the drunkard’s coat, and was 
able to hold him at least a moment. 


3 


34 How Billy went Up in the World. 

It seemed an hour to Ben. Peter strug- 
gled madly, and flung both arms around the 
frail boy to draw him recklessly down with 
him to death. Over he went, without resist- 
ance, and the leaping, sparkling, stream that 
was so beautiful by day swept over them both. 
The stars twinkled overhead, and the crick- 
ets chirruped in the crisp grass, and at that 
very moment Brownie was softly lowing at 
the little red cottage door. Granny waked 
up and called out in the silence and shadow, 
“ Bring the good book, Bennie, then we will 
go to rest.” 

Two hours later Billy came gayly whis- 
tling home, and found the cottage dark, the 
fire out, and the poor old woman shivering, 
troubled to understand the strange stillness 
around her and her own discomfort. He lit 
a candle and looked on the lounge, expect- 
ing to find little Ben curled up there asleep, 
but the kitten, mewing pitifully when he 
disturbed her, was there all alone. 


Peter the Tailor . 


35 

“ Where can he be, gran ” — The words 
were arrested on Billy’s lips. Farmer Ellery 
entered the room, and motioned to him to 
keep still. A woman who followed him led 
granny tenderly into the next room, while 
outside the door Billy heard muffled voices 
and many footsteps. 

A moment later, how his blood seemed to 
freeze with horror ! The door opened, and 
sad-faced men brought in on a plank, torn 
from the old bridge, Peter the tailor, dead ! 
His pallid face gleamed through the matted 
hair, the water dripped from his clothing ; 
and clutched tightly to his breast was poor 
little Ben. The child’s soft locks streaming 
back, showed the sweet face that looked to 
Billy like an angel’s, so pure was it now. 
The patient little helper! Billy burst into 
tears. He forgot the stuttering, the baby 
pinafore, the copper-toed shoes that used to 
make Ben so funny. He all at once remem- 
bered how he gave himself so lovingly to 


36 How Billy went Up in the World, 

everybody’s service — to his, to granny’s, to 
the miserable father’s, even unto death. It 
seemed as if Billy must get him back, if only 
to tell him how much he loved him. But 
that could not be ever again ! 

Farmer Ellery and the other kind neigh- 
bors made every effort to restore the two to 
consciousness ; but all was of no avail. They 
could only keep the sad condition of things 
from the poor old woman until morning, and 
then vie with one another in bringing her 
comforts. 

The next few days were very strange ones 
to Billy. He never forgot an hour of that 
morning when he sat on the door-step in the 
warm sunshine, and peeped every now and 
then into the cottage, where, on the old 
lounge, made white with snowy linen, was a 
child, strewn from head to foot with apple- 
blossoms.' 

“ He was not great, or handsome, or very 
smart,” thought Billy, “ but he will be missed, 


Peter the Tailor. 


37 


for he was good, and he loved everybody. 
He was always ready and willing to help, or 
to do, or to suffer. He was worth twice as 
much as I am. Nothing is left for me but 
granny. I’ll have to make up to her the loss 
of both of them.” 

Suddenly there came into Billy’s mind the 
thought of his chosen occupation. Was he 
not to start out as a minstrel that very week ? 

I doubt if Billy had ever thought as much 
in all his life before as he did in the days 
that lay between the time when little Ben 
was brought home so cold and white, and the 
funeral, when the kind neighbors buried him 
away out of sight under the green sod. He 
seemed to be taking a new view of life alto- 
gether. He could not have told the reason 
why, but the idea of starting off with the 
minstrel troupe seemed to lose its fascination. 
He would have to leave that little green 
mound behind him, and he did not want 
to do it. 


38 How Billy went Up in the World. 

It was two days after the funeral when, as 
Farmer Ellery was at work in his field, there 
appeared quite unexpectedly a red head 
over the fence near him, and then a boy 
with a very earnest face. 

“ Good-day, Billy. Going to leave us, I 
hear.” 

“No, sir. I have come to say I want to 
make a man of myself by being just a hard- 
working boy, if you will show me how. 
And could I work for enough to keep an old 
lady, do you think ? I am going to keep 
her, anyhow. The town sha’n’t have 
granny. I am sorry I refused your of- 
fer. That minstrel nonsense is no go for 
rne.” 

Billy’s face grew as red as his hair, but he 
went on in a minute. 

“ Her Book tells what a fellow ought to be, 
you know, and I think I had better get into 
being something worth while. If I turn 
short around, maybe I can” — 


Peter the Tailor. 


39 


“ Make the most ot yourself, with the help 
of God.” 

“ That is it, exactly.” 

“ Come over the fence. Take a hoe and 
begin,” said Farmer Ellery. 


CHAPTER IV. 


THE REAL BEGINNING. 

TT7HEN Billy had worked a while in 
* * silence, the farmer stopped, and lean- 
ing on his hoe handle, said, with a kindly 
smile, “ Let 's attend service now for a little 
while 1” 

As Billy stared at him, he went on : 

“ There is a great deal of preaching done, 
my boy, that is not done by parsons. The 
good Book says : There are ‘ many voices in 
the world, and none of them are without 
signification/ I can hear some of them this 
morning. Can't you ? ” 

Billy pushed his ragged hat up from his 
forehead and listened, his bright eyes wan- 
dering from the moist brown earth at his feet 


The Real Beginning. 41 

to the new dandelions scattered like fallen 
stars on the near pasture land, then up to the 
intense blue beyond the farmer’s picturesque 
old windmill. He heard no “ voices” — nothing 
but the twitter of birds in their honey-moon 
days of house-building and the faint low of 
cattle away by the brook, whose sight he 
hated of late. 

“ Don’t you hear the Spring voices all say- 
ing : ‘ Now is the starting time, boy ! We 
are young and strong.’ So are you. Every- 
thing depends on the way you begin. There 
is only one chance to plant yourself for 
growth in your life-time ; only one season for 
the proper blossoming. Billy, I want you to 
stay where you start this morning until you 
give yourself a chance to grow.” 

Mr. Ellery went on hoeing after that, and 
Billy mused on his words with a tolerably 
clear understanding of them. By-and-by 
Mr. Ellery said: “I have engaged Prissy 
Tarbox to come and live in the cabin ; she 


42 How Billy went Up in the World. 

will take care of granny for the rent and the 
milk. She is a good-hearted, smart woman, 
so the old lady will fare better than she had 
fared before ; but you must be kind to her, all 
the same.” 

“ There, now! I could have gone with 
Annerly just as well as not,” was the thought 
that flashed across the boy’s mind — with the 
quick image of the minstrel “show;” but 
after that came another memory, that spoiled 
the fancied fun. Poor little Ben, stumbling 
about, wearied with his tiresome mimicry. 
Once and for all Billy said to himself, “ What- 
ever I am, I wont be a fool ! I’ll work ! ” 

At twelve o’clock a girl about Billy’s age 
appeared in the farm-house door and blew a 
horn ; it was the signal for dinner. Several 
hired men came toward the kitchen, stopping 
first to wash in a neat little room adjoining the 
wood-shed. Billy thought the kitchen, with its 
spotless tables, its dresser full of bright tins 
and blue crockery, simply magnificent ; while 


43 


The Real Beginning. 

to have corned beef, three kinds of vegetables 
and a pudding, was an experience for his 
stomach unprecedented in the past. As the 
farmer saw him eat, he doubted about his 
ability to move the hoe again that day with 
any degree of liveliness, but he said to wife, 
later: “We must have patience. When 
any fellow is apparently all stomach, that 
must be pacified before his conscience can 
wiggle or his heart beat worth a snap. I 
have believed in Billy, because, while half 
starved, he did appear to have a feeling for 
his old granny. Let him eat against time 
for a while.” 

Singular as it would have appeared, Billy 
could have eaten even more that very day ; 
but he was a little bashful in the presence of 
a girl. It was his first encounter with one 
who wore good clothes and lived anywhere 
in particular. He had borrowed and lent 
money and food to certain wild little news- 
venders and “black-headed- Jim girls” of the 


44 How Billy went Up in the World. 

various cities where he had dwelt, but “ Nan” 
Ellery, as her father called her, was a differ- 
ent creature. She was so sleek and bright 
that she made Billy think of a young colt. 
She had eyes that filled with fun when half 
the boy's knife seemed to vanish down his 
throat with his pudding; and while he was 
“mad” at her for seeing — as of course she 
must see — how red his hair was, he wished 
that his hair had happened to be as black as 
her own, which was braided in one long tail 
down her back. Mrs. Ellery, who sat at the 
head of the table, was a fine-looking pleas- 
ant woman. The men, who rolled down 
their shirt sleeves and put on linen jackets 
before coming to the table, were sensible, 
good-natured fellows. But there was one 
other person present whom Billy thought 
rather an impressive individual. He was a 
boy about sixteen years old, with a handsome 
face, and he was a trifle dandyish in his stylish 
clothes, but very pleasant in manner. This 


45 


The Real Beginning. 

was Stanton Ellery, a nephew and ward of 
the farmer’s, and he also lived in the family. 

For the next few days Billy was as busy 
taking notes of people and things, as he was 
industriously occupied with various new 
duties. 

Mrs. Ellery would have overlooked his 
wardrobe had he had any to undergo that 
process ; but when she found he owned only 
the tatters on his back, she soon had him 
decently clad, and gave him a brush, a 
comb, a Bible, and a room. What this last 
was to Billy she never imagined. It was 
only a low room, over half the kitchen, but 
when he knew it was to be his, he felt like a 
king. Over the bed, with its red and yel- 
low calico spread, was a hanging shelf for 
curiosities, evidently, as there was a clam- 
shell there and a pigeon’s wing. In the 
cherry-wood washstand was a drawer full of 
twine and nails. There was a table — not so 
very rickety — and on it a pile of illustrated 


46 How Billy went Up in the World. 

papers. That looked as if some time he 
might sit there and read. At the window a 
“ turkey-red ” curtain let in a rosy light, and 
to Billy the place seemed richly furnished.* 

Mrs. Ellery gave him also several articles 
to be worn for a change, and on Sunday. 
These were regarded by Billy with great 
pride, as they hung on pegs inside the door. 

Yes, life had indeed begun for the boy ; 
he was “ planted,” and ready to “ take 
root.” 

Farmer Ellery was very prompt and 
active himself; and Billy, studying him, had 
concluded that he was “smart;” when about 
the end of the week, this impression was, 
for the time, obliterated. Billy considered 
himself a pretty good judge of horse flesh, 
and he had attended some horse sales, very 
well managed, as he thought. Now Mr. 
Ellery had a horse that was the object of 
Billy’s secret scorn, and perhaps with reason. 
Bob was one day tied to the hitching-post 


The Real Beginning . 


47 


by the back gate, and Billy was near by, 
mending a wheelbarrow. Meanwhile a man 
came along, and leaning on the gate, asked, 
•“ Where’s the boss.” 

“ Down in the south lot.” 

“ Do you know if he wants to sell that 
critter ?” 

“ I don’t believe he’d like to part with it — 
old Bob’s a staver.” 

“ Good for anything?” 

“ Good ! When his grit is up he can pass 
any trotter on the road. He was an old 
pacer, Bob was ; now to be sure Mr. Ellery 
just keeps him for steady work — he don’t 
mind how much he does or how little 
either,” muttered Billy, driving a nail into 
the barrow furiously. 

“ He looks like a galvanized old hoop 
petticoat,” grunted the stranger, poking 
Bob’s ribbed sides. 

“ If he was lazier he’d be fatter,” returned 
Billy. 


48 How Billy went Up in the World. 

“ Well, I aint looking for a beast to drive 
in Central Park.” 

“ If you was you might go farther and do 
worse, so far as some points are concerned, ” 
said Billy, dropping the hammer, and letting 
himself loose, so to speak, on the inquiring 
stranger, who was greatly amused and a 
little bit moved by Billy’s evident knowledge 
of horse talk, if not of horse flesh. He was 
not at all sure but that Bob was the horse 
for him, if a tenth of what this shrewd faced 
boy said was true. Ellery was renowned for 
his honesty, and his boy could have had no 
instruction about selling a horse not for sale. 

“ Go find your father. I want another 
critter for farm work, and maybe this old 
plug will do, if he wants to get rid of him.” 

Billy started, but at that moment Mr. 
Ellery himself came up a lane and advanced 
toward them, in response to the man’s loud, 
“Hello, friend! what’ll you take for this 
horse ?” 


49 


The Real Beginning . 

“ What will you give ?” 

“ That depends. What sort of an animal 
is it ?” 

“ One to be relied on. He never does 
anything unexpected.” 

“ What is he good for ?” 

“ He is the best eater you ever saw.” 

“ That doesn’t fat him up any.” 

“ No,” replied the farmer, eyeing Bob as 
dispassionately as possible. 

“ Is he fast ?” 

“ He can jog along for an hour or two, 
and then you can’t get him off a walk to save 
your life.” 

“ I see you don’t want to sell him, so you 
tell the truth about him.” 

“I’d like to sell him. He’s not worthless, 
by any means ; but I don’t need him. There 
is work in him yet,” said Mr. Ellery, proceed- 
ing to point out all the capabilities of that 
sort that Bob possessed, but to Billy’s disgust 
as calmly telling wherein he was not sound. 

4 


50 How Billy went Up in the World ’ 

The upshot of the matter was the stranger 
bought the old horse for twenty-seven dol- 
lars. Billy was sure he, in Mr. Ellery’s 
place, could have sold him for seventy-five, 
and very likely he might have done so. 
When the bargain was concluded, the two 
men walked away to the barn, the stranger 
turning back once to glance at Billy. 

That night, after supper, as Billy sat on 
the back door steps playing with Zip, the big 
dog, Mr. Ellery came out and sat near by, in 
his large wooden chair. 

“ You would make a sharper horse-dealer 
than I am, Billy.” 

It did not seem exactly modest for the boy 
to say, “That’s so,” but all the same, he said 
it to himself. 

“ When you offered yourself, over the fence, 
to me, that morning, why didn’t you tell me 
you could do more than any man for ten 
miles around here, so far as farm work 
went ?” 


5i 


The Real Beginning. 

“ What did I want to lie for ?” returned 
Billy, indignantly ; “ besides,” he added, you’d 
a found me out and sent me back where I 
came from.” 

“ What did you want to lie so for to that 
man, about Bob, then ?” 

“ Why, I was sellin’ a horse !” 

“ And after the man had him, you knew he 
couldn’t send him back.” 

Surprise filled Billy’s face ; then, in the 
clear light of the man’s eyes — this man, who 
gazed at him so earnestly — Billy answered 
honestly, “Yes, I’d a had him then, fast;” 
but his voice faltered. 

“ I never sell horses, or anything else, in 
that way, my boy ; and I don’t want you to 
do it. If forty-nine men out of fifty like that 
sort of dealings, I don’t. You must not be- 
gin, if you live here. If I had asked fifty dol- 
lars for Bob, I should have known I was 
selling him for his worth, which is just about 
twenty-seven, and I was selling out my self 


52 How Billy went Up in the World. 

respect, say for ten more, my truthfulness for 
ten more, my good name for three dollars 
more ; and the devil would have cheated me 
worse than I had cheated Bob’s new owner.” 

“ I thought folks always lied when they 
sold horses,” put in Billy, feebly. 

“ Most everybody does ; but that is no rea- 
son why you and I should.” 

This was a new idea to Billy; he mused 
on it, not seeing Mr. Ellery when he went 
back into the kitchen. 

By-and-by he heard a chuckle, and looking 
up, he saw young Ellery drawing on his kid 
gloves, preparatory to going into the town. 
A being who wore gloves was so far removed 
from our boy, that he was peculiarly pleased 
to receive a not unfriendly dig in the ribs 
from a kidded paw, with the remark, “ You’ll 
do, youngster! The stuff is in you. I’d bet 
you against Uncle Tom, on a horse trade, 
any day.” 

“ He could have got more, just as easy as 


53 


The Real Beginning. 

not ; that fellow was a kind of a greeny.” 

“ Of course,” quoth young Stanton, saun- 
tering off. 

“ I guess I’ll go down and see granny,” 
thought Billy, after a while ; and as he 
crossed the fields toward the cabin, he was 
saying to himself, gravely: “A man must 
get more money when he is sharp, biit people 
that see and tell things exactly as they are, 
make a body like them to fall back on. Ben 
wasn’t smart a bit, but he seemed kind of 
wise, and he would tell the truth always. I 
didn’t suppose men ever were like that. I 
thought it was because Ben did not know any 
better. Perhaps it is the very best anybody 
can do to just go it on the square every time. 
I might try it.” 


CHAPTER V. 


PRISSY TARBOX. 

T l lLLY opened the cottage door and 
stood a second motionless, so surprised 
was he by the change that had taken place 
there. A new rag carpet, with a great deal 
of green and yellow in it, made the floor soft 
as the grass outside. A small stove shone 
like satin, and the old lounge had been re- 
stuffed and covered with red calico. In the 
middle of the room stood Prissy Tarbox, and 
she spoke her welcome, thus : 

“ Young man, you can come to see granny 
whenever you like, but please to remember I 
like to have folks knock. Death is about the 
only caller now-a-days uncivil enough to en- 


Prissy T a rbox. 5 5 

ter without as much as sayin’, * by your 
leave.’ ” 

“ I’ll knock next time,” said Billy, meek- 
ly ; and then Prissy, mollified, exclaimed : 
“ See there now, don’t she look like a new 
pin ?” 

“ Why didn’t you get here to supper ?” 
asked granny, as Billy, following Prissy’s 
motion, went over to the cosiest corner of 
the room. 

“ Why, she is real handsome, isn’t she?” 
laughed the boy. “ What have you done to 
her ?” 

“ I’ve mended her all up,” returned Prissy, 
as if she talked of a jointed doll. “ Her hair 
is soft as silk, and in two little puffs, looking 
like a picture under her clean cap. That 
knit shawl I gave her myself, and the slip- 
pers. She is as happy as the day is long, 
now, Billy, and if you drop out a dozen or 
two years, she is pretty bright. I know 
everything that has happened in this neigh- 


56 How Billy went Up in the World ’ 

borhood for about twenty years back, so 
she’s more entertaining to me than if she was 
a later edition, as you might say.” 

The old lady patted Billy’s rough head 
and smiled up at the trim, alert little seam- 
stress, to whom Billy was artfully remarking, 
“You don’t look a bit over twenty.” 

“I be — I’m twenty-seven; but I began to 
be knowing early as a youngster. Granny 
is a great deal clearer in her mind, now that 
her meals are more regular. The poor old 
creature needed cossetting ; if she gets hun- 
gry she gets luny ; but now I keep a little 
warm broth on the stove, and she takes a sup 
now and then. She is just as good company 
as I’d ask. Besides she is a regular illumi- 
nated text, as pious as anybody could de- 
sire. Well now, Billy, how does it go with 
you ?” 

Billy chatted away for some time about 
his new home, while granny listened almost 
intelligently, and Prissy with evident curiosi- 


57 


Pi'issy Tarbox. 

ty. When Billy avowed he liked every 
member of the Ellery family, the latter re- 
marked: 

“ Mrs. Ellery is a prime housekeeper, and 
he is so honest I’ve heard folks say he must 
be crazy. If they don’t go so far as that, 
they say he’s very original. That’s ’cause he 
just up and tells the truth on all occasions. 
There’s nothing more unexpected, you know, 
than, truth, or you will know it if you live 
long enough. Si Barnard works up there, 
don’t he ? ” 

Prissy’s last words were uttered with such 
marked unconcern that Billy might not have 
replied, if Silas Barnard had not become 
somewhat of a favorite with him. 

“Yes, Si works there the year round. 
He’s a clever fellow, isn’t he ?” 

“Too clever — there’s no snap to him,” 
said Prissy indifferently, and adding, “ he is 
good-natured ; so much so, some folks say he 
is soft ; he is handy about most everything 


58 How Billy went Up in the World. 

and can sing very well ; plays the fiddle tole- 
rably. Pa used to say fiddlin’ singin’ men 
folks never were anything but poor sticks.” 

“Si works hard,” said Billy. 

“ Oh, I suppose so ; it is neighborly in him 
to come over and milk Brownie for us every 
day. I can milk, but I don’t like to do it.” 

“He needn’t do that any more ; that’s my 
business, only I never thought of it.” 

Prissy did not look as satisfied with this 
suggestion as she might have been ; perhaps 
she was thinking of Billy’s interests, for she 
remarked, “ Maybe Mr. Ellery wont like 
you running here too much to wait on us. I 
suppose Si’s time is his own, after hours.” 

“ Oh, I can come as well as not.” 

Prissy fell into a brown study, with her 
plump hands folded over her neat pink calico 
dress. She was as bright and attractive as 
any young girl. The kitten, whose once 
lean sides had grown full and sleek of late, 
popped up into granny’s lap. The old lady 


Prissy Torbox . 


59 


began to sing to her, as if she were a baby, 
and pussy, in return, purred in loud content. 

“Once on the stormy seas I rode,” 

Was granny’s favorite hymn ; and while 
her weak old voice quavered up and down, 
Billy wondered if the ocean that “ yawned,” 
and the “bark,” that so “rudely tossed,” 
were really pictures of her actual experience. 
He asked Prissy, and she quickly returned : 

“ O no, the hymn goes that way ; though 
she’s had a rough enough life, I’ll warrant.” 

“ So have I,” said Billy, with the tone of a 
pilgrim full of years and adventures. 

“ You ! What do you know about life ?” 

“ Well, I rode a canal mule once five 
months. I washed dishes two days in a city 
boarding-house. I had a boot-blacking 
stand once in front of a cigar store, with a 
chair for my men right under the Indian 
queen, with her nose knocked off. That 
was the grandest time of my life. I made 


60 How Billy went Up in the World. 

enough to buy my grub regular, and go to a 
show every Saturday night.” 

“ I wonder you did not go to the old Nick 
— or the House of Refuge,” said Prissy, 
looking him well over, as if she fancied he 
might have been more mysteriously vicious 
than appeared. 

“I should have done just that if I had 
not had a bringing up.” 

“ A bringing up ! Well, how far — pray 
tell ?” 

“ Till my mother died/’ was the boy’s half 
sullen answer. Prissy was quick enough to 
see that he was right. The poor mother 
started Billy toward the highest good she 
knew ; and on her memory, as on a support, 
had crept up little tendrils of good thinking, . 
of better doing. 

“What are you going to do when you are 
a man ?” she asked, approvingly. 

“ I am going to earn money enough for 
a tall white marble stone with a beautiful 


6i 


Prissy Tarbox . 

image on top — I’ve seen ’em in grave- 
yards — I’ll have one on her grave, and be- 
sides I’ll keep always there one of these — 
these — sort of bright stiff flowers in a hoop 
you know, that never fades. I like the gold 
colored ones best. I asked the price of ’em 
once, but I couldn’t pay for it.” 

“ Everlasting wreaths, they call them,” 
exclaimed Prissy. 

Granny stopped stroking pussy and gazed 
at the talkers a minute, whispering solemnly : 
“ And they sing the song of Moses — the 
song of the Lamb, saying, ‘ Great and mar- 
vellous are thy works, Lord God Almighty ; 
just and true are thy ways, thou King of 
saints !’ ” 

“What is she talking about, do you 
suppose ?” 

“ About heaven, Billy, where your mother 
is.” 

“ Is that all pretty talk, or do you really 
believe my mother is somewhere this very 


62 How Billy went Up in the World ’ 

night ?” and asking the question vehemently, 
Billy’s wide open eyes watched through the 
window the tree shadows moving in the 
moonlight back and forth over the crisp 
grass. 

Prissy, somewhat startled, hesitated a mo- 
ment, then answered : 

“ I believe it, and I am not very good. 
I’ve got principles, of course, but I ain’t real 
pious. Granny is very pious, and always 
was. Folks like her seem to know there’s 
a heaven, and that all good mothers are 
there after they die.” 

“ I hope mine has got over her backache, 
and that there is so much to eat she won’t be 
going without any meals and giving hers to 
anybody’s children. It makes me mad yet 
to think when she must have been as hungry 
as I was, those days, sometimes I did eat 
more’n my share,” murmured Billy, swallow- 
ing a sob. 

“ Oh, you was a poor, little, starving 


Prissy Tarbox. 


63 


shaver, and it did her more good to see you 
filled than to have it herself. That’s all past 
now, forever, and she is wearing diamonds 
and pearls, and outshining Queen Victoria, 
maybe.” 

“ I wouldn’t like her so. If she is like 
that, she’s forgotten me.” 

“Nonsense! And maybe,” added kindly 
Prissy, resolved to have it perfectly satisfac- 
tory, “maybe they can leave off everything 
except their lovely white robes, if they pre- 
fer ; probably your mother would be quiet in 
her taste. I only meant diamonds were noth- 
ing up there.” 

Billy no more questioned her information 
than if she had but just returned from a visit 
to the Celestial city. He listened to her 
next remark with new interest; but, in the 
midst of a sentence, there came a rap on the 
door, and Prissy rushed around to light a 
lamp before opening to the new comer. It 
proved to be Silas Barnard, who hitched 


64 How Billy went Up in the World. 

along in rather shyly, and was speechless, 
when Billy broke out: 

“ Why, you don’t let Brownie go till this 
time of night, do you, before you milk her ?” 

“ Hush up ; Brownie was milked hours 
ago,” put in Prissy, offering Silas a chair, 
and saying : “ I suppose you dropped in for 
that basket Mrs. Ellery sent me those house 
plants in. I am ashamed I kept it so long.” 

“ My sakes, Si, I could have fetched that 
home any time ; you must be awful particu- 
lar,” commented Billy, with the harrowing 
thick-headedness of a boy who has never 
known a sentimental emotion. However, a 
little later, he refrained from saying openly 
that Silas made things stupid, but thinking 
just this, he frolicked with the cat, talked a 
little with granny, and then started for 
home. First, however, without a thought of 
cruelty, he lingered on the threshold to 
say : 

“Coming now, Si? If you’ll go around 


Prissy Tarbox . 65 

by the clearing, I’ll show you that trap I told 
you about.” 

Si was not going. He blushed a little, 
and squirmed more. Prissy began to tell an 
endless and rather, for her, dull story. Billy 
getting tired, finally took himself off. 

It was a fine evening, and not at all late, so 
Billy loitered along, listening to the frogs, 
and, after a while, thinking about Stan 
Ellery. What an easy life the young fellow 
had. Si said he was coming into a fortune 
when he was of age. He had plenty of 
money now, and more liberty than the farm- 
er thought good for him. He owned his 
pony. He had an off-hand, friendly manner 
that everybody seemed to adm’re. Yes, 
Stan had a fine start. “ But, then,” said 
Billy to himself, “suppose he has, now; 
twenty years from this time, if I have made 
my ‘pile,’ won’t I be as well off as he is? 
Many a poor boy has made a rich man. 
5 


66 How Billy went Up in the World. 

Mr. Ellery says he never had a cent left him; 
he earned all he has.” 

Billy was turning it over in his mind how 
he was to attain to wealth, when he reached 
home, and mounted the back stairs to his 
room. He sat down by the open window, 
where soon the sound of voices reached him 
plainly. Mrs. Ellery, Nan, and the farmer 
were talking on a piazza not far below, and 
at one side from his window. 

“ I think Stan’s father made a great mis- 
take in insisting that he should be educated, 
at first, by private tutors. Steady drill with 
other boys, regular discipline, and no flattery 
or undue favor, is what he needs,” said Mr. 
Ellery. 

“ When I have learned all I can learn at 
the red school-house — what then ?” inter- 
rupted lively Nan. 

“Then,” said her father, calmly, “you 
will not tell me, as you did tell me yesterday, 
that verbs have gender, and that ‘ellar- 


Prissy Tarbox. 67 

boret * is a correct way to spell ‘ elabo- 
rate/ ” 

“ That was only a slip of my tongue, pa. 
But, tell me, do, am I ever going to any 
other school ?” 

“You are going to have the most thor- 
ough education I can give you, to fit you for 
the best life you can live.” 

“Billy don’t know anything!” exclaimed 
Nan, suddenly. 

The boy at the window could almost see 
Nan toss her long braid and fling up her 
chin, as she made this rash statement, which 
angered him not a little. 

“ Indeed you are mistaken. Billy is very 
knowing, as I find,” remarked her mother. 

“ Well, I mean about reading. He learned 
all he knows off city bill- heads and signs, so 
he told Si.” 

“ You might teach him to read well, Nan.” 

“ I would not like to — he hasn’t any man- 


ners. 


68 How Billy went Up in the World. 

“ I don’t suppose the heathen have any 
good manners, but there are folks who do 
missionary work among them, sometimes,” 
was her father’s quiet reply. 

If Nan had any further remarks to make, 
Billy did not hear them. He was decidedly 
“ stirred up.” To be despised by a girl was 
something, it seemed to him, he would not, 
and could not endure. To have this particu- 
lar black-eyed Nan object to teaching him any- 
thing! He longed to pound her with spelling- 
books until she was black and blue. As if he 
would have learned anything of her, any 
way ! He could read. Had he not, many 
a time, read for granny, when Ben could not 
do so? Just here Billy reflected that, when 
the old lady’s wits were clearest, she had 
repeatedly objected to the names he often 
gave Bible characters, and even to the words 
he put into their mouths. Perhaps he did 
not know much, after all. Very well, then, 
he would know more. No Nan Ellery 


Prissy Tarbox. 


69 


should turn up her nose at him. “ It turned 
up anyway, ” he muttered, as he arose and 
went spitefully to pulling about the bed- 
clothes. 

He was kept awake from mental excite- 
ment the first time in his life that night ; he 
had received so many ideas that were new to 
him in the day time. A man actually had 
sold a horse for a small sum in preference to 
lying and getting a larger amount. Then 
Prissy had given him a thought of a mother 
away from earth, but his mother still. In 
that thought was far-off purity ; something 
white and sweet, that drew him on and up a 
little. While he was saying to himself that 
he must be rich some day, it came to him 
with force that he ought to know something 
in his head, as well as to have something in 
his pocket-book. He tumbled and tossed, 
and fell asleep at last, and dreamed that Nan 
Ellery was sitting on the red school-house 
chimney, making faces at him, while he was 


70 Hoiv Billy went Up in the World. 

hunting for something to throw at her. Very 
ignorant and impulsive was this nobody’s 
boy, but he was waking to realities. Life 
never again could be merely a minstrel show, 
even in his simple estimation. 


CHAPTER VI. 


A PURIFICATION. 

TN the summer months that followed Billy’s 
entrance into the Ellery family, he learned 
more than in all his life previous as a vaga- 
bond. He was of course too young and too 
inexperienced to be put at any one long task 
involving much thought or responsibility, but 
the farmer gave him plenty to do ; and after 
explaining all the wliys and wherefores, he 
required Billy to be faithful and industrious. 
Frequently he had some work to do for Mrs. 
Ellery, and she taught him to be careful and 
neat. He strained the milk and helped her 
churn. On rare occasions he washed dishes, 
but always with a secret protest, because 
that was properly Nan’s work, and her saucy 


72 How Billy went Up in the World. 

black eyes were usually full of fun at the 
awkward dabs he made into the hot water. 
Nan would have been astonished to know 
how Billy felt towards her about this time. 
A week or so after that night, when he had 
heard her say he knew almost nothing, she 
found a spelling-book, a second reader, and 
the First Lessons in Grammar. Armed with 
these, and upheld with a virtuous desire to 
do “missionary work,” Nan one day walked 
out on the piazza where the boy sat mending 
a horse-net, and said, “You can't read very 
well, can you, Billy ?” 

“ Not so well as usual,” he replied, waxing 
a length of twine with a big lump of beeswax. 

“As usual?” repeated Nan, somewhat 
puzzled. 

“ Well, then, not so well as before I went 
up in that balloon and concussed my brain 
as I lit,” continued Billy, with such an air of 
intelligent sobriety, that Nan asked quickly, 

“Why, did it burst your brains?” ; 


A Purification. 


73 


“ Awfully. I was ’most ready to enter 
college before that. I talked Latin easier 
than nothing ; but going up so suddenly as 
I did, and coming down suddener, was a kind 
of a shock to a fellow who couldn’t spread 
any wings to save his life. It gave me soft- 
ening of the brain.” 

“I thought that ailed you,” said Nan, just 
as sedately ; “ but I supposed you didn’t 

know what the cause was. I was just going 
to offer to teach you any lesson you wanted 
to learn. Mother thought you ought not to 
stay so ignorant.” 

“’Tisn’t painful, a bit,” said saucy Billy; 
“ and likely as not all my old education will 
come back, some day.” Then he could not 
resist a provoking grin, as he glanced up at 
the trim little would-be teacher. 

Nan’s dignity was so much offended that 
she exclaimed severely : “ Do you intend to 

grow up without knowing anything ?” 

“No marm.” 


74 How Billy went Up in the World . 

“ Do you want me to teach you any- 
thing?” 

Alas for the cause of education, the “ good- 
little-girl,” tone of Nan’s voice rasped Billy’s 
already irritated temper, and he doggedly 
returned : 

“ No, I don’t want anything of you.” 

“ Well, you are the most ill-mannered boy 
I ever saw ; and I don’t know what father 
took you for, I’m sure. I wouldn’t teach you 
now if you teased me ever so hard,” re- 
turned Nan, her voice loud and sharp with 
anger. She stood a second after saying 
that, as if she were tempted to add some- 
thing more. Then hearing her mother call- 
ing her she turned away hastily. 

For a moment Billy’s revenge was pleas- 
ant : a girl had despised him, and he had 
made her “hopping mad.” And as he 
went on mending his net, his face grew very 
red, for slowly and surely he realized that he 
had acted like a “jackanapes.” He did not 


A Purification. 


75 


know much, and Nan only saw the truth. 
It was kind in her father to tell her to help 
him, and kind in her to be willing to do so, 
after she thought about it, as she evidently 
had thought. 

It seemed horrid to have to be the victim 
of kindness, but if he had been singled out 
for her effort in that way, even his untutored 
sense told him he should have either accept- 
ed or refused the offered help, in at least a 
decently civil manner. It never occurred to 
him to apologize for his rudeness — far from 
it ; but a certain loss of respect made him 
sullen all the rest of the day. Several times 
before night the old lawless desire returned 
to Billy to strike off and commit some folly. 
Once or twice he looked down the pleasant 
country road that passed the house, and won- 
dered how it would seem to be starting away, 
nobody knew where, to seek his fortune. 
Of old, when such a mood possessed the boy 
he followed it ; but it was well for him that he 


76 How Billy went Up in the World. 

had wit enough now to reason that a good 
home, and honest work, was a present for- 
tune for a nobody’s boy. 

Silas Barnard was a help to him in times 
like these. Billy would often talk freely 
with him and get much homely, sensible ad- 
vice in return. Si was, also, very kind to 
granny, and to Miss Tarbox. He continued 
to milk their cow evenings, and he often 
staid later to render them any little service ; 
but Billy was sent to milk in the morning. 
This evening, when Billy was not so well in- 
clined as usual, he looked for Silas to return 
and divert him by playing the fiddle ; but 
Silas staid at the cottage until after eight 
o’clock. About that time Billy went to the 
old well for a drink, and there encountered 
Stanton Ellery. The boys had a notion 
that, in warm weather, the water drawn up 
in the old-fashioned bucket was cooler than 
that from the modern pump nearer the house. 
Billy, in particular, liked to come to this spot, 


A Purification . 


77 


for a huge tree overshadowed it, and on the 
wooden platform, now moss-covered, he 
could sit with Si Barnard, when the latter 
felt like fiddling. 

“ I suppose you did not have a well like 
this on every corner of New York streets, 
did you, Bill ?” exclaimed Stanton. 

“ Havn’t you ever been in the city ?” 

“Oh, dozens of times. It is the only 
place to live. The country was made for 
cattle. By-and-by, when I get enough of 
books to suit Uncle Tom, I’ll get out of this 
old pasture-land. What did you see that 
was lively in your time, Billy ? Didn’t you 
say you washed whiskey glasses in a concert 
saloon, once?” 

“ Yes, I did it for a week. Bob Phipps 
had the place, but a truck run over him, and 
his boss offered me my grub to be there 
nights. It was mighty poor grub, though,- 
on the free lunch order, you know ; and the 
show just wasn’t worth the late hours. I 


78 How Billy went Up in the World. 

lodged in a dry-goods box in the Bowery 
about those times, and if I had tried to sleep 
days, you know, somebody would have been 
overhauling my bed-room, as likely as not ; 
so I retired from the trade.” 

As Billy talked, he had wound up the 
dripping, creaking bucket, and was refreshing 
himself from the half shell of a cocoanut that 
hung close by the well. Then he turned 
away to go to bed. 

“ Sit down awhile, young chap, and let me 
put you through your paces,” said Stanton, 
in his lazy, good-natured way. 

Billy dropped on the dry grass, and the 
boys continued to talk of city scenes in low 
life. He began by telling Stanton of that 
which seemed to him the most entertaining: 
of great down-town fires ; of the thrilling es- 
capes of the firemen ; of military parades ; 
of a certain strike, and a lively mob that 
discomfited the police. But young Ellery 
was not greatly interested. He questioned 


79 


A Purification. 

him of other things, that had already begun 
to drop out of the boy’s thoughts. 

Under exactly the same circumstances, 
and after the same training, Stanton Ellery 
would have betrayed coarser instincts than 
Billy Knox. Stanton’s life had passed in 
pure, sweet, country scenes. He had walked 
through woods, and had never seen a wild- 
flower, or cared a straw whether or not birds 
sang, or tall ferns waved, or that curious little 
insects and animals were all around him. 
But he never heard a low joke at the town 
grocery which he did not remember. Billy 
Knox had met a great deal of wickedness, 
had seen and heard bad things, because they 
were where he had been ; but it was as true 
of him figuratively as it was literally, that, 
when he came to filth, he had walked 
around it, instead of turning it over curiously. 

To-night, as the two boys sat in the faint 
star-light, under the shade of the black tree, 
Billy could not fail soon to perceive, that 


80 How Billy went Up in the World. 

what his soft-mannered, white-handed com- 
panion wanted, was to have him tell him, in 
detail, of the most vulgar scenes, the smut- 
tiest, slimiest places he knew. It was some- 
what awkward for Billy at first, because the 
worst of his old street companions had not 
taxed him to make himself agreeable in 
this fashion, ever before. They knew as 
much as he knew, but what they wanted to 
know, as a rule, was something amusing, or 
even helpful. However, when Billy saw that 
the lower his allusions were, and the viler his 
stories became, the more excessively did 
they amuse Stanton Ellery — who was he, 
that he should be fastidious ? Whatever he 
did, he did with all his might ; and now he 
racked his memory for material wherewith 
to edify his listener, who, by exciting ques- 
tions would lead him on, or by appreciation 
expressed in his long, low, musical laughter, 
would flatter Billy’s self-conceit. They sat 
there an hour; then Stanton, finding that 


A Purification. 8 1 

Billy had apparently exhausted his resources, 
rose up, yawned, and sauntered off toward 
the house, remarking : 

“ Well ! Well, my little red herring, you 
are pretty well salted. You’ll keep ! I 
always knew you couldn’t be so fresh as you 
seemed.” 

A moment after Stanton had gone, Billy 
thought he heard a step behind the well- 
sweep. He turned quickly, but it was too 
dark to see any distance. It was late, too, 
and time for all the doors to be locked. 
That was Si’s business, and Si had returned, 
for the light from his lantern could now be 
seen glimmering through the barn door. 
Billy wished he need not go to bed ; he was 
not at all sleepy. He would like Silas to 
fiddle his liveliest dancing-tunes. He sprang 
up, and had gone about a rod, when a man 
pounced down, and gripping him by the 
shoulder, exclaimed : 

“ I want you in the barn !” 

6 


82 How Billy went Up in the World \ 

“Well, land, Si! You needn't wring a 
fellow’s neck off, if you do. I can take an 
invitation easier than that,” returned Billy ; 
adding : “ What's up ? A cow choking 

again ?” as Silas strode away toward the lan- 
tern and the open barn door. 

Billy followed fast, into a little room where 
Si kept his tools, carriage grease and old 
clothes. He went nearer, as the man opened 
a little keg and looked grimly in, then 
searched and found a cloth. 

“What- is it, Si?” he asked, again. 

“ It is this,” said Silas, sternly; and turn- 
ing, he clutched Billy in two powerful hands 
that held him firmly : “ I have stood by that 'ere 
well for half an hour, and I feel as if my nose 
was full of a stench that come from some 
bottomless pit. Now, Billy Knox, I hain't 
got no call to attend to Stanton Ellery. He 
is a gentlemanly young cuss, that bids fair to 
be a gentlemanly devil one of these days; but 
I am amazed at you. It seemed to me to- 


A Purification. 83 

night, that you must be rotten through and 
through. Fust off, I was of as good a mind 
as ever I had to eat, to go fetch the boss, 
and let him send you flyin’ ; but I held on a 
little longer, seein’ as how Stan was eggin' 
you on, and I’ve concluded to give you a 
chance — one more chance — for decency. 
But I hope, for gracious sake, you threw up 
all the horrfble stuff there is in you. I’ve 
got a thing or two to say, after I’ve cleaned 
your mouth out so you’ll be fit to speak to 
the rest of the family in the morning.” 

Thus saying, and quicker than a wink, Si 
Barnard had Billy’s red head under his shirt 
sleeve, and into Billy’s mouth, opened to 
roar, had gone a swab of soft-soap that did 
good execution. Up, down, and around his 
gums, and into his cheeks went brown 
chunks of the strong dark substance. The 
frantically kicking heels behind, upset a peck 
measure of meal, a pail of water, and waved 
wildly in the air like banners of distress. Si 


84 How Billy went Up in the World, 

was emphatically at the head of this under- 
taking, and cared for nothing in the rear. 
He soaped and scrubbed the spitting, splut- 
tering mouth, in a way no boy would for- 
get to his dying day ; then he suddenly 
dumped Billy on a bran chest, and went out, 
locking the small room door. 

“ I will be back soon, when IVe done a 
chore or two. You’ll get your breath by 
that time, and can listen to me.” 

Silas’ voice was so void of all temper, so 
full of self-control, that Billy was for a 
moment or so surprised at himself that he 
was not madder at the treatment he had re- 
ceived. A little water remained in a pail 
not overturned, and dipping up this as best 
he could, he removed the soap clinging to 
his teeth ; but the process was far from 
agreeable. 

By-and-by Si returned, set down the lan- 
tern by his feet, and perched himself on a 
barrel top, from which position he silently 


A Purification. 85 

studied Billy, who began to feel a strange 
new emotion of shame. 

“ I know all about common animals/’ calm- 
ly remarked Si, at last. I’ve seen and heard 
most of the wild beasts at one time or 
another, but to the best of my knowledge 
there aint but one brute among ’em all that 
seems to love pure filth because it is filth — 
and that one is the hog. He aint pretty 
— he looks like a hog, and aint got but one 
set of manners. He is for that very reason 
not in danger of doing much harm, because 
he is kept in his pen and not invited to sit 
at folks’ tables or to keep company with ’em. 
There is a human creature that is a great 
sight meaner and worse to have around than 
an honest out and out dirty beast. It is a 
boy or a man who can act like a gentleman, 
smooth nice ways, good grammar kind o’ 
talk before folks he’s afraid of — but when he 
get’s a chance, down he goes rootin’ in the 
mire — spattering everybody and everything, 


86 How Billy went Up in the World. 

soilin’ everything he touches ; callin’ after him 
some little wretch like you that has just been 
set onto your pegs in a clean spot. I’m 
ashamed of you, Billy Knox !” 

“ Havn’t done nothing much — only talk- 
ed. You must be green, Si, if you never heard 
folks go on sort of free and easy,” muttered 
Billy, sullenly. 

“ Look up here, boy ! ” 

Billy lifted his head. Si took the lantern, 
and holding it close to the boy’s face, he 
leaned forward, saying: <f Tell me the truth 
now. Do you like such kind o’ talk ? Do you 
begin it when you are along with other 
boys ?” 

“ No, I don’t said Billy, firmly. 

“ Do you think much of such stuff ? ” 

“I forgot I’d ever seen or heard the most of 
that — that nonsense I had over to-night, un- 
til I got a going, Si,” replied Billy, looking 
him full in the eyes with his own bright ones. 

Si saw truth and shame both in the face 


A Purification. 8 7 

upturned to him. He put down the lantern, 
and said : 

“ I’ll believe you until I find you fooling 
me, on the condition that this purifying 
you’ve had keeps your mouth clean hereafter. 
Do you suppose I’ll have you talk as you 
did to-night, and then go to the cottage vis- 
iting them good women there, breathin’ the 
same air with old granny, who looks as if 
she’d got one tired old foot right on the 
threshold of heaven, and her face half way 
in ? — and — and Prissy too ! I think conside- 
rable of Prissy. I’d sooner turn a regular 
hog in on them, just as I said before, than a 
man made out of a boy like Stan Ellery. I’ve 
often noticed that a boy that had a real out 
and out nice, pretty sister, didn’t want no 
such foul talking boys around her. You 
ain’t never had any sister, had you, Billy ?” 

“ No ; and I’m glad of it. I hate girls !” 

“ And judgin’ from your talk to-night,” 
continued Si, with deliberate study of his 


88 How Billy went Up in the World. 

youthful listener’s dogged countenance, 
“judgin’ from that talk of your past, I sup- 
pose your mother must ha’ been a low, vul- 
gar-talking ” — 

Billy gave one bound, and landing about 
on Si’s stomach, would have rolled him head- 
long off the reeling barrel ; but perhaps Si 
expected to be bombarded, for he struggled 
good-naturedly, and cried out, “ I take it all 
back, Billy. Maybe she wasn’t” — 

“ She was the best woman that ever lived !” 
roared the boy. “She was ten thousand 
times better than any mother you ever had, 
Si Barnard ! She ” — 

“ I take it back, Billy, every word. There, 
stop prancin’; you’ll break my lantern,” 
urged Silas, adding, in a tone that quieted 
and moved Billy, “ I know what a good mo- 
ther is — but mine did not have a very good 
son. I loved her, God knows I did ! but I 
made her no end of trouble. I run away 
from home against her wishes, ’cause I could 


A Purification. 89 

not live peaceable with my oldest brother 
and my father. I wouldn’t come home when 
she used to write and tell me to come, but I 
always said to myself that I’d earn some 
money for a black silk dress (father was 
awful tight, and she never had a decent dress 
to her back) ; then soon as I could show ’em 
that I could take care of myself, I’d go home 
and take mother that there nice present. 
Wall, I got my steady work, and I got the 
dress, as sure as you live. It laid three 
weeks in my trunk before I could get leave 
of absence to take it to her. I used to look 
at it in that old hair cloth trunk, just as 
women folks look into cradles at their babies ; 
but you see it sort of meant to me how I 
loved that poor weakly little woman who had 
had precious little comfort in life. One day 
I got a telegraph. Lor, how them yellow 
envelopes makes me shiver ! — an’ it said* she 
was sick, dangerous. I didn’t lose no time, 
but when I got there, they was asking what 


go How Billy went Up in the World. 

they should lay her out in. I handed that 
black silk dress to the neighbor women, and 
my mother had it for her shroud. But I 
never got the chance, Billy,, just to tell her 
I was an ungrateful wretch, but I did love 
her ; I wanted to say that so much.” 

Si’s mouth was twitching, and the soap 
seemed to have got into Billy’s eyes. 

“ When a woman is good she is like my 
mother, and yours, maybe. She hates talk 
that is bad, and she hates mean, low thinking 
that don’t get out in talk ; and if a fellow wants 
his mother that way, he ought to be ashamed 
of himself if he wants to be what she despises. 
Aint that so, Billy ?” 

In the clear light of the lantern the boy’s 
face had grown softer, and his really fine 
eyes looked frankly into Si’s, as he replied : 
“Yes; only boys and men never are like — 
well, like ” — 

“They are strong, and loud, and bold, you 
mean, of course. That’s the way they are 


A Purification. 


9i 


meant to be ; but a turnip can be just as 
clean and wholesome as a rose, if it aint pretty 
enough for a flower-pot. You aint so fine 
and delicate as Nan Ellery, but you’ve no call 
to say what her father wouldn’t have her hear 
for five thousand dollars. Aint you ashamed 
of this night’s goings on ?” 

“ Yes.’’ 

“ Prove it, then, by letting it be the last 
such talk you ever let out. Prissy said you 
was asking her where she supposed your 
mother was, and kind of inquiring about 
heaven. I don’t know many Bible verses for 
all sorts of things, as granny does, but here’s 
one you try and remember. After almost 
everything had been said that the Lord him- 
self meant to have said to us down here on 
earth, on the very last page of the Bible, he 
tells us who can get into heaven, and who 
must stay on the outside, and never ‘ enter in 
through the gates into that city/ ” 


92 How Billy went Up in the World. 

“Who can’t go in?” asked Billy, slowly, 
after Silas stopped. 

“ Filthy people — not filthy bodies, but 
filthy souls! They are shut out; and the 
word will be — it says just this exactly : ‘He 
that is filthy, let him be filthy still.’ ” 

For a little while after that neither the 
man nor the boy spoke. A rat gnawed away 
behind the meal bin, and not far off the horses 
were pounding their hoofs on the stable floor. 
Billy seemed to be gazing at a great cobweb, 
white with dust, hanging from a halter on the 
wall ; but he was doing considerable think- 
ing, and some repenting, making to his bet- 
ter self a good promise or two. 

When Silas picked up the lantern and pre- 
pared to go, he followed him, saying: “I 
guess you’re sound, Si. I don’t suppose if 
it hadn’t been in me, Stan Ellery could have 
stirred it all up. But he ” — 

“ He is no crony for you, and the less you 
have to do with him the better.” 


A Picrification. 93 

Si locked up the barn, and Billy crept in 
the kitchen door and up to his little cham- 
ber. His mouth was sore, and his self-con- 
ceit was terribly cast down ; but deep in his 
heart was the firm conviction that the rough 
“ hired man,” whose fists were like a black- 
smith’s, was a cleaner, better being than the 
elegant stripling who had idled away his 
time at the well with him. 


CHAPTER VII. 


BILLY PUTS AN ENEMY TO ROUT. 

BOUT a week after Billy had so un- 



civilly refused Nan’s offer of help, he 
went over to the cabin to see his friends. 
Prissy was sewing in a chair just outside the 
door; and Billy, having upset her work-box, 
first picked up the scattered spools, and then 
exclaimed: “Think, Miss Prissy, of some- 
thing you want me to do for you ; because I 
want you to do something for me.” 

“ That is right, boy ! Don’t you go ask- 
ing favors if you don’t expect to render fa- 
vors. What is it you want?” 

“ I want to learn to read without blunder- 
ing so awfully as now. I want to figure on 
the slate, and to — well, you know — I want to 


Billy puts an Enemy to Rout. 95 

learn the things I would have learned if I 
had gone to school. Mr. Ellery says I may 
go to school this winter, but Til hate to go 
in without knowing anything.” 

“ Exactly so, Billy ! In these days poverty 
doesn’t hinder anybody from getting some 
learning. Why, even Mrs. O’Goramor, the 
washerwoman, says her Patrick shall have a 
regular ‘ epidemic education and I’m sure 
he’ll take it that way if he ever gets it at all, 
judging from what I’ve seen of him. Yes, 
Billy, you come over here ” — 

“ Evenings ?” suggested Billy. 

“ No, not evenings, for I’m likely to be in- 
terrupted,” replied Prissy, hurriedly. “ I’ll 
atteitd to you any other time. I’ll ask Si 
Barnard to see that you get time ; then I’ll 
find my old school-books and put you 
through. I taught school once in Newton, 
and boarded around. I wonder I aint as 
green as a verde antique Venus, with the sal- 


g6 How Billy went Up in the World, 

eratus bread-stuff I was kept on. Will you 
study faithfully?” 

“Yes, I will; no fooling, Prissy.” 

“ And you’ll do something for me ?” 

“ Sure as you live.” 

“Then it is a bargain. You know I 
always went out dressmaking before I came 
to live with granny, but now I take my work 
all home here, to make and finish. I like 
this way : we are as cosey as kittens in a 
rag barrel ; but there is one disadvantage. 
I don’t like to go away on an errand and 
leave granny all alone. I can, but I worry. 
She might tumble down, or set herself on 
fire, or get hurt in some way. I don’t often 
care to go away, for I get plenty of exercise 
around the house and yard ; and for com- 
pany, I have all the people who come and 
go for their work. Still, when I do want to 
leave granny for an hour or so, if you could 
stay around where you would have an eye 
on her, it would be a great accommodation.” 


Billy puts an Enemy to Rout . 97 

Billy agreed to do this, at once. He had 
a variety of work, and some time to himself ; 
besides, the cabin was so near he could bring 
a few of the tasks set for him by Mrs. Ellery, 
and do them here. Thus the matter of 
“knowing” something, was fairly under- 
taken. Prissy was a strict teacher, and Billy 
was very much in earnest. Nobody had 
ever called him stupid. Prissy soon pri- 
vately considered him remarkably precocious. 
He had early trained himself to habits of 
observation. His first look at a word was a 
keen one, and ever after he could spell or 
pronounce that word. He liked arithmetic, 
and detested grammar ; declaring to Prissy, 
that anybody talked just as well without 
knowing what a noun was, as af :er he had 
learned ; but Prissy kept him a : it all the 
same. 

One day, after reciting his le .sons, Billy 
told her Nan had offered to teacl him. He 
also told how he had received her offer ; not 
7 


98 How Billy went Up in the World. 

because he was at all proud of his rudeness, 
now, but really because he would like to 
know in what light it appeared to another. 
Prissy had no hesitation about telling him 
that he ought to be ashamed of him- 
self. 

Billy seemed not particularly surprised at 
this verdict, but he added, coolly : 

“Nan said I was the most ill-mannered 
boy she ever saw, and she didn’t know what 
her father took me for, anyway.” 

“ Why do you suppose he did take you ?’* 
asked Prissy. 

“ Why — to work for him.” 

“You don’t earn your bread yet, for your 
work is here and there in bits,” returned 
Prissy, very kindly, but going on plainly. 
“ No, Billy, he didn’t take you for any help 
or good you could be to him at present ; he 
just took you for your own sake, to help you 
make something of yourself. If Nan offered 
to teach you, why, you can be pretty sure it 


Billy puts an Enemy to Rout . 99 

was not for any pleasure she was going to 
get out it.” 

“ Then I’m mighty glad she isn’t doing it,” 
said Billy, stoutly, as he picked up his cap 
and started homeward. 

It was a pleasant mid-summer afternoon ; 
and as Billy was going up the lane towards the 
farm-house, he saw Mr. Ellery and his wife 
just starting for a drive to Sefton, the near- 
est town. While he was thinking what he 
would busy himself about, Mrs. Ellery called 
out: 

“You can finish that work in the garden, 
Billy ; and don’t go far away from the house, 
for Nan is alone. The men are away in the 
north field, out of call, if she needed them, 
and there is a company of gypsy tramps 
down by the bend, I hear.” 

No sooner had Billy learned of the gyp- 
sies, than he resolved to make them a visit at 
his earliest leisure; but he promised Mrs. 
Ellery to “ stay around,” and went to weed- 


ioo How Billy went Up in the World . 

in g in the garden. As he worked he began 
to wish that he could, in some off-hand sort 
of a fashion — not, of course, as if he really 
cared the least bit in the world to do it — 
render some service to Nan. 

Before their little unpleasant talk, she had 
sent him on errands, once or twice, and, in a 
mildly patronizing way, approved of him 
when he did them well. Now she put turnip 
or potato on his plate at dinner, with the 
same indifferent and superior air with which 
she fed the cat and dog after dinner. It irri- 
tated Billy, but he had sense enough to see 
he could only “get even” with her by 
making her, in some faint way, under obliga- 
tions to him. He racked his brains for an 
idea, until he was forced to give up that line 
of thought. Was it not a proof that Billy 
was a boy to the core of his heart, that, fail- 
ing to think what he could do to conciliate 
Nan, he fell back on the suggestion that, at 
least, he might “ scare her half out of her 


Billy puts an Enemy to Rout, ioi 

wits for was she not left alone to his ten- 
der mercies ? How to accomplish this last 
feat, in a very simple way, by means almost 
always at hand, occurred to him, and, when 
his weeding was nearly done, he resolved to 
go into the house very quietly. 

Nan was crochetting a red shawl, sitting 
in the big cool kitchen alone. He could 
hear her sing, and could see her through the 
open window. He had just risen from his 
stooping posture when he discovered a ras- 
cally looking fellow, slouching along in the 
real tramp gait. He was making for the 
open door of the room where Nan was sit- 
ting. Billy darted away in the opposite 
direction, made a complete detour of the 
yard, and stopped, unperceived, at the pan- 
try window. It was open, and not far from 
the ground. Dropping his shoes, Billy got 
in as softly as a cat, and immediately insert- 
ing his nose in the crack of the door letting 
into the kitchen, he watched proceedings there. 


102 How Billy went Up in the World. 

The moment the tramp framed himself in 
the outside doorway, Nan sprang up, letting 
her work drop to the floor, for his face was 
as sneaking and as ugly as a human face 
well could be. He asked for “the folks,” 
and Nan hesitated so long before she stam- 
mered out that they were “ all busy,” that he 
probably suspected she was alone, and 
stepped boldly in, demanding “ something to 
eat.” 

Billy saw Nan glance at the pantry, then 
evidently fear to do anything. She turned 
very white, and her voice shook as she said : 

“ The dinner is all cleared away, and there 
is nothing I can give you, now.” 

Her silver thimble had rolled on the floor; 
the rascal coolly swooped it up, and casting 
an evil eye around on the ’table, the dresser, 
and the mantel-piece, growled : 

“ I’m out of work and very poor. I must 
have something — a little money, miss ” — 

Billy took in the situation. The great 


Billy puts an Enemy to Rout . 103 

fraternity of lazy, cowardly wretches, who 
scare women and servants into giving them 
food in summers, and herd in the city Island 
Institutions all winter, was well-known to 
him of old. He instantly resolved, inasmuch 
as poor little Nan had been already scared 
out of her wits, to turn his ammunition on 
the new comer. He dived toward a certain 
shelf in the pantry, seized a well-made paper 
bag, such as grocers use, and pulled out his 
“jack-knife.” He was back to the look-out 
in time to see the tramp start for a silver 
spoon-dish that had been left on the dresser. 
As the man approached her, Nan gave one 
terrified shriek for “ Father ! father !” 

Now Billy’s voice had begun to change, 
and on occasions, sounded like each and 
every instrument of a brass band : so, muff- 
ling his mouth a trifle, he effected at this 
crisis, a terrific bass, and roared : 

“Two seconds to git, before I fire!” 

Without pausing to know if it were man 


104 How Billy went Up in the World. 

or beast that bellowed, the tramp turned. 
There was a sharp click of steel as Billy's 
old knife snapped into its case — then, with a 
deafening noise, off went his pistol — or, his 
exploded paper bag ! 

Nan began on a succession of ear-splitting 
screeches. The tramp had pushed her half 
over a chair, in the bound he gave toward 
freedom and the back lane. Billy, prone 
on the pantry floor, was rolling and writhing 
in laughter arthe success of his exploit. He 
had overturned a churn, and no end of tin 
pails, before Nan, white and breathless, 
came, half believing she would find her 
father shot by his own deadly weapon, 
though, at the very time, she was thinking 
with amazement, “ Father is miles away, and 
the old shot-gun burst last year." 

Billy, with a scarlet face, could only sit up, 
and point to the fragments of the paper bag, 
and then go off again in new peals of fun, as 
Nan, seeing the joke, added her merry voice 


Billy puts an Enemy to Rotit. 105 

to his. They had to talk it all over in detail, 
when they were a little calmed : how the 
man was most likely one of the vagabonds 
from the gypsy encampment ; how he had 
Nan’s pretty thimble, a birthday gift; but 
chiefest of all, how queer it was that a mere 
blown up paper bag could make such an 
awful noise ! In her girlish excitement, Nan 
declared it sounded ‘‘exactly like a cannon.” 

They picked up the pans and churn ; then 
Nan, who had berries to look over for sup- 
per, graciously allowed Billy to help her, and 
evidently regarded him as a hero in an hum- 
ble sort of a way. He, on his part, repeat- 
edly assured himself, that he had put the bag to 
a far better use than that first suggested to him 
by the spirit of mischief. When the berries 
were nearly picked over, he managed to get 
out, rather awkwardly, the statement that 
he was learning “something,” now. He 
“thought he wouldn’t bother” her to teach 
him. Prissy Tarbox could do it as well as 


io6 How Billy went Up in the World . 

not. Nan colored, then bravely exclaimed : 

“ It was mean in me to say I didn’t see 
what father took you for. He says you are 
a ‘ real handy boy, and quick to understand 
work.’ ” 

Billy was wonderfully pleased ; but he be- 
gan instantly to talk about Si Barnard and 
the black colt, for iear he should betray his 
bashful gratification. At this point Mr. and 
Mrs. Ellery drove up to the door, and before 
her mother had untied her bonnet strings, 
Nan was rehearsing the thrilling episode of 
the afternoon. Nan’s danger, or what Mrs. 
Ellery fancied might have been her danger, 
prevented her from entering as fully into the 
fun of Billy’s performance as did Mr. Ellery 
and Silas somewhat later ; but on the whole 
it was a fortunate occurrence for the young 
people. Billy modified gradually his aver- 
sion to girls in general, because, after that 
day, Nan was very kind to him. She took 
an interest in his progress with Prissy ; she 


Billy puts an Enemy to Rout. 107 

lent him Pilgrim’s Progress, the Rollo Books 
and Robinson Crusoe. She had the true 
feminine tact of letting her opinions be known 
on certain matters about which she did not 
talk openly or in any pointed manner. It 
was little by little borne into Billy that he 
must keep his face, hands and nails cleaner; 
that “ if you please,” and “thank you,” were 
agreeable words to say and to hear. In 
many such ways the home influence began 
to tell on him. He went to church and to 
Sabbath-school ; he came to have some well- 
defined ideas of his relations to God and to 
man. As he proved himself capable and 
trustworthy, Mr. Ellery increased his work 
and made it more methodical than at first. 
The result was soon apparent in Billy’s in- 
creased thoughtfulness regarding his future. 
He had a great many practical talks with 
Silas, and profited by advice like this : 
“What you want to do, Billy, for the next 
two years, is to learn — learn as fast and as 


108 How Billy went Up in the World. 

thorough as ever you can ; first, about work, 
and next about books. I missed it in getting 
no education. When my work was over I 
. learned to fiddle, instead of to spell. I was 
a goose.” 

“ What will I do after two years ? ” Billy 
would inquire, very seriously. 

“Wall, that depends. If you have beat 
every scholar in the old red school-house, 
and want to go on to know more and be 
something else besides a farmer, then ’ll be 
your time to try to get yourself through the 
Sefton Academy, may be to college. Who 
knows ? But you needn’t think a farmer like 
Mr. Ellery isn’t worth forty ’leven gumps 
who go to college and come out too fine to 
work, too human to kill, but havin’ to eat as 
much and wear as costly clothes as other 
folks.” 

“ I expect I shall be a farmer,” returned 
Billy. “ Mr. Ellery says I can get on if I am 
plucky and do my best. First, of course, it 


Billy puts an Enemy to Rout 109 

will be work by the day, at all sorts of farm 
work in the season ; then in time I may get 
to work land on shares ; small fields, he says, 
of various crops, such as corn, potatoes, 
beans, or I might, in time, become a market 
gardener.” 

“ That’s the talk ! Why Ned Wait, on the 
Holcomb farm, raised barley last year and 
cleared a good round sum. Not long ago 
Mr. Bruce had a choice field, just right for 
growinghops, and he wanted a thorough-go- 
ing active young man to work that on shares. 
He could sell the hops right off to the dis- 
tilleries, and make it pay well. Oh, there’s 
ways enough to work and get on in the 
world, Billy, if you do your best.” 

“You better believe I’ll try it,” was the 
boy’s hopeful reply. 


CHAPTER VIII. 


A NEW SIGHT OF OLD THINGS. 

1WTRS. ELLERY and Nan were very 
-*•*-*■ fond of Stanton. He never behaved 
disagreeably around the house, or said any- 
thing very unpleasant. The men about the 
farm were always too busy to render any 
sort of little services that the feminine part 
of the family could well do without ; yet 
when Stan was ready to step in and proffer 
them, he seemed doubly agreeable. He 
often drove into town and left messages at 
the dressmaker’s ; he matched cloth for 
them. He cracked nuts and popped corn 
when Nan expected young girls to visit. 
He even staid home and helped them 
eat the nuts ; and this, as he was entirely 


A New Sight of Old Things . 1 1 1 

out of “ round-abouts,” and, as he modestly 
let them know that he had eaten philope- 
nas with young ladies recklessly and hab- 
itually, impressed the girls as being kindly 
courtesy. To his uncle he was always 
respectful, and, so far as was apparent, obe- 
dient. Mr. Ellery was far from approving of 
Stan, yet he could not bring anything worse 
against him than a lack of earnestness in his 
studies and a tendency to extravagance. 
Billy’s opinion of Stan came to be a kind of 
compound sentiment. He vastly admired 
his easy air of assurance, which was just 
deferential enough not to make him appear 
conceited. He wondered at Stan’s ability 
to give “ neat ” answers, which sheered clear 
of actual falsehood yet never implicated him, 
no matter how much he seemed at fault in 
any matter. Perhaps the chief attraction, 
after all, was his good nature. Si Barnard 
would scowl and mutter to himself about 
hypocrites, and then confess to Prissy that 


1 1 2 How Billy went Up in the World . 

the “ fellow had a mighty taking way with 
him.” 

Billy for several months was flattered by 
the interest Stan seemed to take in hearing 
of his past life and adventures. He never 
presumed on his apparent friendliness and 
grew too familiar, but he contented himself 
with watching the young man — for so Stan 
wished to be considered. At first it was 
rather pleasing to Stan’s conceit to have 
Billy take admiring recognition of everything 
he did or said, of where he went and when 
he returned. Not that Billy knew or saw 
half as much as he probably supposed was 
passing under his observation, but he was 
proving himself observant, shrewd, and 
able to read character. Gradually it was 
borne into Stan that Billy was' a positive 
chap, who must be for or against him. 

When Stan staid out nights until one or 
two o’clock, it was convenient to have Billy 
slip down the back stairs, and let him in. 


A New Sight of Old Things . 113 

Stan was sure Billy would do this for an in- 
definite length of time ; but he was not sure, 
that if some day he were questioned, he 
would lie judiciously to screen him. Billy 
had, as Stan thought, an uncommonly horrid 
way of reckless truth-telling. Once, after 
Stan had ridden the farmer's best horse fast 
and furiously, forgetting to take proper care 
of it later, but meaning to keep the whole 
affair quiet, Billy had helped him very clum- 
sily — telling no tales, but shirking the 
straightforward falsehood which Stan ex- 
pected from him, as a good ally. There- 
fore, as the summer went by, Stan came to 
have his private opinion of the desirability of 
Billy's presence in his uncle's family, unless 
Billy could be made perfectly pliable in his 
hands. 

He became, however, a great deal more 
gracious, and began to give the boy “ some- 
thing to read.” Naturally, Billy’s taste was 
rather poor in literary matters, and so in the 
8 


1 1 4 How Billy went Up in the World ’ 

cheap books Stan brought him, he soon de- 
lighted. “ Off to the Moon with a Mad- 
man,” and “ Sue Sykes ; or, the Slaughter- 
House Demon ” — dime novels with terrific 
pictures, were delightful in Billy’s eyes, 
though some instinct made him read them on 
the sly. A pretty long course of such read- 
ing had its effect; only once Stan missed the 
mark. A far worse book than any of those 
trashy yarns, was thrust smilingly into Billy’s 
hands one day, when the boys were for a 
moment alone together. An hour later, 
Stan, sitting by the old well whittling, looked 
up as Billy dropped something at his feet, 
saying: 

“ You didn’t say what you gave it to me 
for, but I thought this was what it needed. 
Si would think so, I reckon, if I’d a showed 
it to him.” 

Stan stooped over, and recognized his 
book covered — yes, saturated with soft-soap. 
Billy never explained why he applied* it, and 


A New Sight of Old Things. 115 

Stan never again alluded to the matter ; but 
he muttered to himself : 

“ Hes inclined to be a goody chap, and 
everybody here will help him on. If he was 
smart he’d see I could teach him a trick or 
two worth knowing; as it is, I’m about sick 
of him.” 

This being the case, one would have sup- 
posed that Stan would have ignored him 
after that, but he still lent him continually 
books of boys’ adventures ; of wild life on 
the frontiers, of unnatural, yet to ignorant 
Billy, wonderfully fascinating exploits. In 
these books boys never submitted to do 
“ chores ” for their bread and butter ; never 
lived with farmers for the mere sake of a 
home. O no ! From driving mules, they 
attained by rapid, brilliant strokes of vaguely 
described genius, to the ownership of count- 
less acres, where wild horses roamed ; where 
savages existed only to fall before them, 
after vain strifes. 


1 1 6 How Billy went Up in the World. 

From the glaring frontispiece, to the ad- 
vertisements on the back cover, Billy accepted 
all as literally true. Stan used to discuss 
the heroes and situations with him, as 
gravely as if the question was of some well- 
known scene in history. He did more than 
this : he labored to show Billy that the 
youths who lead these exciting lives were 
not naturally any “ smarter ” than was Billy 
himself. It was only that they had the 
pluck to put themselves in circumstances 
favorable to the development of their daring 
dispositions. For a long time Stan affected 
this apparently disinterested appreciation of 
Billy, and, after awhile, he was agreeably 
surprised to find his pupil had learned his 
lesson only too well. 

One chilly evening in the early autumn, 
when, for a wonder, Stan Ellery was at 
home and in bed, Billy tapped on his cham- 
ber door, and whispered : 

“ I want to speak to you a minute.” 


A New Sight of Old Things . 1 1 7 

“ Come in, then — step softly ; the sitting- 
room is just below,” returned Stan, who 
always suspected some motive for secrecy — 
a bad trait in anybody. 

The room was dark, but Billy felt his hand 
along the wall until he reached the bed, and 
sat down by Stan's feet. 

“Whats up ?” said Stan. 

“ I am.” 

“ So I see ; but it isn’t late. I should be 
lively myself if I’d had more sleep last night. 
Heard anybody speak of the serenade a few 
fellows gave the girls down by the Bend, at 
Miss Crowfoot’s boarding-school ? I believe 
the old maid poured hot water out of the 
window, at last, she got so enraged.” 

“ Si was telling about it. Somebody told 
Prissy. Were you ” — 

“ I heard of it, sonny ! That’s enough. 
Well, what are you up for?” 

“ I am going to light out, Stan !” 

“ Where are you going to, young man ?” 


1 1 8 How Billy went Up in the World. 

“You see there is not the same reason 
now for my staying, that I thought there was 
in the first place. Granny is well cared for, 
and ” — 

“ Exactly so, Billy ; but what are you go- 
ing to do ?” 

“ I’m going first to New York. Fve got 
the tin for that trip. When I get there, I’m 
going to hunt up four boys I know. Pete 
Hurdsen, the cutest chap ever you saw ; he’d 
make his living off the sharp end of the 
North Pole. Ned Wilkes — he’s little, but he 
isn’t green — Sam Poole, and the Snipe, as 
we always called a fellow you could count on 
every time.” 

“.When you’ve found them, what then ?” 
asked. Stan, out of the darkness, a laugh in 
his voice that Billy only took for sympathetic 
enjoyment, of his enterprise in its first stage. 

“ Then we will start for Texas — or some 
such place. To be sure, I tried it once, but 
1 didn’t know how the thing was managed ; 


A New Sight of Old Things . 119 

now I could do it, I know, as nice as a pin, 
as so could the others. We’ll call our- 
selves a band, and have a name, you 
know.” 

“Of course,” assented Stan; and if the 
room had been light, Billy would have seen 
the bed clothes shake. “Of course, go in 
and win ! You’re a chap !” What did Stan 
care what became of the “ little fool,” so he 
got him away from the farm ? 

“ Everybody has been mighty good to me. 
I’d like to tell Si to tell ” — 

“ As sure as you drop a word, Si will tie 
you to a post in the barn, or spank you, and 
that ’ll be as far on your way to Texas as 
you’ll get,” was Stan’s quick reply. 

Billy felt its force : he did not, however, 
confess that he had left a printed epistle in 
the barn, pinned to a wagon cushion, which, 
if it was ever deciphered, would throw some 
light on the path by which he had departed. 
He only added : 


120 How Billy went Up in the World . 

“ I shall get over to the station in time for 
the early morning train. Good-bye. ,, 

“ Success to you, old chap ! you deserve it. 
Take my blessing, and my consent.” 

“He don’t care a snap,” was the rather 
sorrowful thought in Billy’s mind, as he went 
out and shut the door. He certainly wished 
to get away silently, it was so put down in 
all the books ; but it would have been pleas- 
ant to think somebody was a little sorry ; for 
under his firm determination to “ go and 
seek his fortune,” Billy himself was very 
sorry to leave the farm. He steadfastly put 
all that out of his calculations at this time, 
and going back to his own little den, picked 
up his stick and bundle — he would not have 
taken a bag if he had owned one — opened 
wide the door, that, from the feeble light of 
a lamp below, he might take a last look, and 
started. 

He went down the lane up which he had 
followed Peter’s cow, that other night that 


A New Sight of Old Things. 121 

seemed so long ago, and stopped at the cot- 
tage. Not at the door; he went, instead, 
around to a little bedroom window, softly 
unfastened a rude shutter, and peered in. 
Everything was as he expected it would be. 
Prissy had left the little tin kerosene night- 
lamp burning, and by its light he could 
discover the old lady asleep, her hands 
peacefully clasped over her breast. 

“ She don’t want many things ; but Prissy 
can get something for her with it. Anyway, 
I never before could spare her a real pres- 
ent,” muttered the boy, taking out of his 
pocket a silver half dollar rolled in blue tissue 
paper. He lifted the window softly, and 
aiming well, shot the coin not far from 
granny’s wrinkled hands; then, more soberly 
than he had left Stan, he turned away from 
his first home. He reflected as he went that 
a boy who had a mother, certainly would 
never run away, if only to leave somebody 


122 How Billy went Up in the World. 

else’s feeble old grandmother, made him so 
uncomfortable. 

There was no need that he should hurry, 
so he turned back a little way, and creeping 
into an old tool-house belonging to the farm, 
he allowed himself a few winks of sleep ; be- 
ing sure his cramped position would prevent 
his losing too much time. The moon was 
up later, and about midnight Billy came out 
again, and tramped away toward the station, 
where would stop the earliest eastern train. 
When he reached it, the first streak of day- 
light had not yet appeared, and no one was 
moving but a surly baggage-man, who eyed 
him distrustfully. When he bought his 
ticket of the yawning agent within, the latter 
stared before he remarked, jocosely : 

“ Great press of business on hand, young 
man, that you are required to start for town 
so early ?” 

“Yes, stocks going up so fast I must be 
back in Wall Street, ” was the prompt reply. 


A New Sight of Old Things . 123 

Already Billy felt more like a saucy gamin 
than for months. When the great headlight 
came near and nearer, and the train moved 
in, stopping only for a moment or two, Billy 
made a rush, and plunged into a smoky, 
foul-smelling car full of sleepy passengers. 
None roused out of their uncomfortable naps 
to look at the boy who dived into the one 
vacant seat by the water tank. He soon 
fell asleep, and did not awake until broad 
daylight, when they steamed into a covered 
depot, where a man was loudly proclaiming 
to the ringing of a big bell, that “ Cars stop 
twenty minutes for breakfast.” 

Billy, mindful of the future, gave not a 
quarter of that time to his morning repast ; 
and if he was once or twice also mindful of 
the past, in that the bountiful farm breakfast 
recurred to his thoughts, he assured himself 
that he had “ roughed it once,” and he must 
“ learn to do it again.” 

It was just noon when the train ran into 


124 How Billy went Up in the World . 

the city, and Billy heard again the old famil- 
iar cries, and saw the old landmarks, as he 
worked his way down town. The life and 
bustle of the streets excited him ; he won- 
dered then, while the sun shone and a partic- 
larly good strolling band played “Yankee 
Doodle ” — he wondered that he could ever 
have left New York. It almost seemed as 
if he never had been away — as if Ellery 
farm and the little cabin, where Ben once 
lived, had all been something he dreamed 
of. He amused himself with whatever pass- 
ed under his eyes for a while ; then he re- 
membered that about five o’clock a wagon 
load of evening papers arrived at a certain 
point on the Sixth Avenue, and that several 
of his old cronies used to supply themselves 
then and there with papers for sale. If they 
had retired from that branch of the trade, 
some of the rest of the fraternity might put 
him on their track. Sure enough, when 
Billy was within half a block of the place, 


A New Sight of Old Things. 125 

the news cart came tearing past, and soon 
the papers were flying all abroad, and scores 
of boys were grabbing, running, yelling in 
all directions. 

“ By the cut of his jib I should vow that 
was Pete Hurdsen !” said Billy, “if he warnt 
so all-killing long-legged ; but then, bless 
me, Pete’s legs ought to have grown since 
I saw them last.” 

He broke into a run and chased the fast 
fleeing legs aforementioned, until Pete — for 
it proved to be he — stopped to make change 
for an old gentleman buying a paper. He 
would have escaped Billy then had the latter 
been less nimble. As it was, he stared 
blankly a second at the well-dressed boy, 
who caught him by the arm, exclaiming : 
“ Hello, Pete ! don’t you know me, old 
fellow ?” 

“Hello — why, is it you, Billy?” 

“ Guessed it the first go — stand back here, 
the papers ’ll keep.” And as Billy spoke 


126 How Billy went Up in the World. 

he drew Pete out of the crowd into a quiet 
corner of Jefferson Market. Pete yielded, 
but as he glanced over Billy’s decent attire, 
he remarked, with a slight sneer, 

“ Cash, are ye ?” 

“ No siree. I havn’t been in the city for 
a good deal more than a year.” 

“ Honest Ingin ?” 

“ True as you live. I’ve had all sorts of 
luck — been on a farm lately.” 

“ I’d like that. What did you quit for — 
lick you, mebbe ?” 

“Never. I’ll tell you by-an’-by. Where 
is Tommy Boole, and the Snipe, and Ned 
Wilkes ?” 

“Ned’s gone back to shines; he’s got a 
chair and all the fixings down by Bleecker 
near Broadway. Tom’s at papers by Grand 
Street Ferry, and — why, didn’t you hear 
about the Snipe ?” 

“ Of course not. I don’t take a daily pa- 
per,” returned Billy, ironically. 


A New Sight of Old Things . 127 

“Wall, now, he did get into the papers, a 
hull line to hisself : ‘Boy busted — pieces 
picked up and toted off to the Island.’ I 
reckon it said that, anyway. The Snipe 
was run over by a steam fire-engine. They 
popped him into a nambolance and rushed 
him off with a big bell a ringin’. My ! 
wouldn’t he a liked the racket if he hadn’t 
been like dead, so they said he was, with the 
blood tricklin’ out of his mouth ! Tommy 
and I got a permit to go and see him one 
day, and there he was a dying in style. 
Nice white bed clothes as ye ever see in a 
shop winder, and a ’ospital nurse in a ruffled 
muslin bonnet, feeding him jilly. He was 
mighty glad to see us, but he seemed that 
tired he couldn’t move. It was just as well 
he didn’t want to, ’cause his legs was both 
arcutaked.” 

“What?” 

“ Cut off, I do believe that woman meant 
by what she said, for the bed clothes was all 


128 How Billy went Up in the World ’ 

flat — mashed like, no room for his legs below 
his knees there. But I didn’t ask — I couldn’t 
sort o’, you know.” 

“Of course — poor Snipe!” echoed Billy, 
his sharp eyes dimmer. 

Pete’s pinched face was very grave. He 
watched a car horse stumble and regain its 
footing; then he added: “Folks do get 
around on stumps, but he’ll never be that 
sort of a beggar. A fellow in the ’ospital 
hall they called a norderly, he said he’d die, 
because his inside works was all some way 
crushed. He sent his love to all the boys. 
His face was white as paper, and clean ; his 
hair was combed, and looked curly, like a 
baby’s, and he had a posy and greens pinned 
right on his shirt — (that was white).” 

Pete stopped for a keen glance at Billy. 
Evidently this report was not being given 
unfeelingly, but if his hearer was not with 
him, he was done. Billy’s sympathy was 
expressed in a franker, cleaner face than 


A New Sight of Old Things . 129 

Pete had ever seen in him before, so he went 
on. “ He was kind o’ like a baby, anyway; 
for when we come away he reached out his 
paw, and pulled us over, and kissed us both.” 

No — Billy did not. laugh, he only winked 
hard while Pete looked off a minute over the 
elevated road to the long stretch of blue sky, 
adding, under his breath, “ I suppose he went 
up for sure, after that, some day.” 

“ Where do you put up ?” asked Billy, 
swallowing something. 

“ Oh, lodgin’ ’ouse, mostly ; but tell what 
you’ve been up to yourself, can’t ye ? ” 

“ Yes, by-an’-by. Give us half your pa- 
pers. I’ll sell ’em for you, and we’ll meet at 
Twenty-first street, then I’ll go down with 
you for the night.” 

How natural it seemed to our boy, who 
yesterday was on a quiet farm, to rush now 
like a winged imp up the Avenue, yelling : 
“Tel-e-gram! Tel-e-gram! Even’n’ Post!” 
He espied a man on a door step, who 
9 


130 How Billy went Up in the World. 

looked toward him ; he shot through the car 
that halted before Macy’s : he rejoined Pete 
in excellent spirits. Somewhat later he had 
greeted several old associates, and visited an 
old haunt or two ; but even before midnight 
a change came over the spirit of Billy’s wak- 
ing dreams. The gay, noisy old city of the 
afternoon lost some of its charms. The 
summer heat had not died out here, as in the 
fresh country. The old eating-house, which 
Billy patronized when the tide of his fortunes 
ran particularly high (and where this night 
he took Pete for a treat), the place was hor- 
ribly close ; and the stench of stale tobacco, 
garlic, beer, cabbage, and unclean guests, 
and their garments, actually turned his stom- 
ach. He said he was not hungry ; and saw 
Pete devour his share with secret disgust. 
At the lodging-house it was even worse. 
While at Farmer Ellery’s- he had enjoyed and 
gradually become accustomed to exquisite 
neatness, without even being conscious of it. 


A New Sight of Old Things. 13 1 

As a fact, Mrs. Ellery’s cooking was per- 
fection ; her kitchen was spotless; while Mr. 
Ellery’s barns were in almost as good order 
as were her rooms; and what was true of the 
farm, was equally true of Prissy’s smaller 
domain. The cabin was as sweet and clean 
as pure air, soap and water could make it. 
Now, the resting-place Billy had once found 
luxurious, was hard, dirty, and full of vermin. 
Unwisely he gave vent to his emotions by 
derisive sniffs, and muttered sarcasms about 
the condition of his couch. It was the sig- 
nal for an outburst of ridicule from his old- 
time cronies. 

Pete had accepted Billy on the former 
friendly footing, partly because he was of a 
kindly nature, partly because the poor Snipe 
had been a bond of union between them ; 
but with Ned Wilkes, Tommy Boole, and the 
rest, it was different. Billy having seen more 
of the world, wearing very objectionably 
clean whole clothes, had, so it appeared to 


132 How Billy went Up in the World. 

them, returned to put on airs ; to tell what 
he had been reading ; — to talk grandly of his 
future exploits. They gathered about him 
during the evening and listened rather silent- 
ly at first, but in the end they began to taunt 
him. Tommy Boole, a red-headed boot- 
1 lack, had been head of his clique for seve- 
j al months, and he was decidedly jealous of 
the new comer. 

“ What are you down here to-night for, 
i-ny way, Vanderbilt?” he broke out. 

“ The Brunswick and the Windsor will 
keep you for a trifle more,” put in Ned, 
\iciously. “Just order out your baggage, 
my boy, and have it sent. ” 

“ Oh, he’s been out on his country seat, 
where everything is fresh. He’ll come out 
right when he’s got a pawn-ticket for his 
watch and eat up his diamonds,” added an- 
other, and so they kept it going. Billy 
knew them well enough to show no spite ; 
but when they beguiled him into confiden- 


A New Sight of Old Things. 133 

tial statements regarding his Texas enter- 
prise, and then scouted the whole pro- 
gramme, his indignation was extreme. Billy 
had gone entirely beyond them in the literary 
way. They had no time for spelling out 
blood-and-thunder romances. They were, 
it is true, open to skilful attacks on the ro- 
mantic side of their nature: but just now, 
every scamp of them was wild for the high 
seas. They scoffed at Texas as “ played out ” 
long ago. Ned said the grasshoppers ate it 
up when they devoured Kansas; and Tom 
added that if they did not, the western fires 
burned up buffaloes and plains alike. 

Billy having thrown buffaloes in as bait, 
they displayed such coarseness in their wit- 
ticisms, such ignorance along with their real 
shrewdness, that now Billy saw them some- 
what as Si, or even as Mr. Ellery, might 
have seen them. He had remembered them 
as quick to plan, dashing and bold to exe- 
cute. Now he reflected, that what they 


134 How Billy went Up in the World. 

planned and carried out, was, after all, some 
single bit of fun or mischief, and never any- 
thing that required any real knowledge of 
the world, or any ability to act with con- 
tinuity of purpose. 

Long after every one of them was asleep 
and snoring, Billy, hot, uncomfortable, and 
wide awake, was turning over in his mind 
schemes, which, even then, had he been back 
in his bed at the farm, he would gladly have 
given up forever — schemes that were fast 
appearing to him impractical, if not foolish. 
These wild Arabs’ talk of sea life, was plainly 
absurd to Billy — why might not his Texan 
visions be as silly? He wished he had con- 
fided in Si Barnard. Here, in the stifling 
heat and foul air of the cheap lodging-house, 
everything connected with city low life 
seemed suddenly foul by contrast with the 
sweet quiet of the country. How could he 
have over-rated these old comrades, as he 
certainly had done, in thinking them capable 


A New Sight of Old Things . 135 

of travel — of romantic research ? Pete 
Hurdson, was undeniably clever; but he had 
grown so lank, so hollow-chested, and 
coughed so persistently, he was not likely to 
come out strong in a raid with possible sav- 
ages. The rest were nothing more nor less 
than dirty, saucy, little wretches. Alas, 
poor Billy ! He had only got far enough 
away from them to despise them. It took 
an older and better person than he was then, 
to look at them pitifully. 

But what should he do ? The thought of 
staying right here in the city, and taking up 
the former life just where these old mates 
were in it — and he could, perhaps, not do 
better than they — was very distasteful. To 
start forlornly off alone for some unknown 
regions, with no clear line of procedure 
marked out, was not an alluring arrangement 
Before dawn of the next day, Billy would 
have given six inches of his stature to have 
been back at Farmer Ellery’s. For what 


136 How Billy went Up in the World. 

had he come, anyway? What put these 
notions into his foolish pate? As he mused 
there in the darkness, he came to a better 
appreciation of Stan Ellery’s character, than 
weeks of previous intercourse with him had 
afforded him. Stan had been “ stuffing him,” 
and he had been a fool. Better still, he par- 
tially realized what true friends he had 
turned his back on so ungratefully. This 
last train of ideas never left him, after its 
start. All the following day it kept with 
him, gradually weighing him down with sad- 
ness. 

He wandered about the docks, trying 
to get odd jobs, for selling papers had lost 
its old charm. In that day, it might truly be 
said, that Billy first saw New York city. 
He was a child no longer. He had been, 
insensibly, somewhat educated, and consid- 
erably elevated, by contact with industrious, 
cleanly, sober men, and pure, motherly, 
Christian women. All the filth, the drunk- 


A New Sight of Old Things. 137 

enness, the crime, the poverty, stood out 
plainly, in bold relief, before the eyes so 
lately turned from blue skies, green grass, 
and wild flowers. 

At seven o’clock that night, there never 
was a more home-sick boy on earth than 
Billy Knox. As he sat on a curbstone 
opposite Fulton market, watching, with a 
doleful face, the crowds for Brooklyn boats, 
there suddenly flashed into his mind some- 
thing Mr. Ellery once said to him : “ Never 
be ashamed to repent. Don’t go on in a 
foolish way because you’ve started. If your 
very shoes refuse to turn, get out of them, 
and go back barefooted. The cuts you get 
will make you more careful how you start 
another time.” 

He sprang to his feet with a whoop of joy 
that made the peanut man nearly suspect 
he’d found somebody’s purse. 

Billy .had been missing nearly a day, be- 
fore the mystery of his disappearance was 


138 How Billy went Up in the World. 

cleared up by Si Barnard, who found the 
missive pinned to the wagon cushion in the 
barn. It was very blindly worded, but when 
he had carried it in to the assembled family, 
they made out that Billy had run away to 
seek his fortune in the far West. Si was out 
of all patience ; Mr. Ellery was sincerely 
sorry, while his wife grieved openly. Billy, 
in his letter, had spent much time and pains 
in telling them how kind he thought them 
all. 

“That shows,” said Mrs. Ellery, “ that the 
poor foolish child had right feelings. He 
was doing so well, and might have made a 
good, industrious man. What do you sup- 
pose will become of him, now ?” 

The farmer shook his head regretfully, and 
made no reply. When Si, during the rest of 
the day, would vent his indignation by mild 
abuse of the young “vagabond,” Mr. Ellery 
would only express a fear that he had trusted 
too much to Billy’s being influenced by his 


A New Sight of Old Things. 139 

surroundings, and had given him too little 
direct instruction and advice. He under- 
stood matters more clearly when his good 
wife found in Billy’s room, under the bed, a 
few of the trashy yarns Stan had given him. 
He saw, too, that several had Stan’s name 
scrawled on their covers. But Stan, when 
questioned, seemed greatly surprised at 
Billy’s flight. The books, he said, were 
some nonsensical things he bought out of 
curiosity, and threw away. Billy must have 
fished them out of the waste paper barrel. 

When Prissy found the silver on granny’s 
bed, she knew what it meant. Her heart 
was very soft towards the young “scalawag,” 
as Si called him, and after she had mourned 
a little over him in Si’s presence, the latter 
relented enough to say : “ If he had the least 
idee where the chap had put for,” he’d “quit 
work for a day or two and follow him up.” 

About six o’clock of the third day, Silas 
Barnard was milking Brownie in the lane. 


140 How Billy went Up in the World. 

He did not see a boy who came slowly 
toward the cottage, lagging now and then, 
where the golden rod and asters were thick- 
est, as if he meditated hiding under some 
hedge. Brownie placidly chewed her cud. 
Billy, for he it was who approached, came 
nearer and nearer, uncertain of his reception, 
and exceedingly ashamed of himself. 

A shadow passed between Si and the sun- 
set light ; he looked up, and it was almost a 
miracle that every drop of milk was not up- 
set, when he saw Billy Knox standing there, 
every feature quivering with excitement. 
Si’s lips puckered for a long whistle expres- 
sive of astonishment. Suddenly Billy made 
a dive for Brownie, flung his arms around 
her neck, and, half sobbing, half laughing, 
kissed her honest old face. Si understood 
all the forlorn, homesick penitence implied 
by the performance, but it all struck him so 
comically, that he roared with laughter. In 
the twinkling of an eye, Prissy Tarbox was 


A New Sight of Old Things. 14 1 

on the scene ; and how her face lighted up 
at the sight of sheepish Billy ! She did not 
laugh when Si, convulsed with emotion, 
choked out : 

“You can’t be first, Prissy; he has kissed 
the cow already !” 

She cried reprovingly : “ Now you stop 

teasing him, Si Barnard. I will kiss him, for 
I’m perfectly overjoyed to see him back ! 
What did possess you to run away, child !” 
And, good as her word, the rosy young wo- 
man gave the boy a sounding salute, that 
made his heart warm with gratitude, and which 
caused Si, who was usually terribly bashful, 
to exclaim boldly : 

“ Don’t stop, Prissy, don’t ! If he could 
give one to the cow, you certainly might 
count me in ” — 

Miss Tarbox offered to box his ears; then 
laying hold of Billy, she bore him triumph- 
antly into her cottage. How inexpressibly 
beautiful the humble place looked ! To sit 


142 How Billy went Up in the World . 

again at a neat table and eat wholesome food, 
daintily cooked ; to have granny make a 
little extra fuss over him, chiefly because 
Prissy was doing so, and not that she under- 
stood the situation ; to pour out every detail 
of his experiences, not sparing himself, and 
to have Prissy believe that Mr. Ellery would 
overlook his wrong-doing this once — how 
good and comforting it all was ! 

“ The first thing you do,” said the practical 
spinster; “you go down to the brook, and 
take a bath. It has been a warm day, and 
the water won’t be too cold. Meanwhile 
I’ll beat and dust your coat, and make sure 
you have brought no awful creatures back 
from that city lodging-house. Then, when 
you are clean, go up and make your meekest 
apologies to Mr. Ellery, and tell him how 
ashamed you are of yourself, as you well 
may be.” 

Billy, swallowing a big bite of apple pie, 
nodded approval of her sentiments. 


A New Sight of Old Things. 143 

“ I kind of think,” said Prissy, with an idea 
of finding out something herself, “ that he’ll 
be more lenient, because he suspects Stan 
Ellery hasn’t done you any good.” 

“ Oh, I was a fool on my own account, 
and I shan’t go up to him a confessing some 
other fellow’s sin.” 

“Well, maybe you had better not,” assent- 
ed Prissy, “ it generally is unnecessary.” 

That was the only time Stan Ellery’s name 
was mentioned in connection with the events 
related. Billy was no tell-tale ; but he had 
found out for himself, who were his friends, 
and who not. This was enough. 

In the twilight he went to the farm. Mrs. 
Ellery was very kind to him. Nan said, 
frankly, she was “very glad to see him 
again.” Mr. Ellery took him alone into a room, 
but his hand on the boy’s arm was as gentle 
as it was firm. He talked for an hour to 
Billy, and it was a talk and an hour that left 
its stamp on his soul. He drew from him 


144 How Billy went Up in the World . 

all his crude ideas of what he wanted to be- 
come, or to possess ; and then, because he 
was good and manly himself, he showed 
Billy that to become a good man was a 
grand aim. Beyond this he went, and made 
the boy see that work well done was noble, 
was inspiring, was enough to fill any life 
with interest. 

When the wanderer fell asleep that night 
again in his clean bed, it was with a great 
sigh of content, and the reflection : “ Si Bar- 
nard will never forget that I kissed the cow, 
and Stan Ellery will twit me of it forever. I 
don’t care, I’d kiss her again. I didn’t see 
a person in the city that looked so good to 
me.” 

Si never told Stan, and never himself 
again alluded to that burst of affection. 


CHAPTER IX. 


THREE YEARS LATER. 

| )ILLY KNOX, who went up in the 
“““^Langham Fair balloon, had disappeared 
— the Will Knox of three years later had, in 
personal appearance, very little resemblance 
to the long-legged, fourteen-year-old Arab. 
Three years of good living, and of healthy 
exercise in farm work, had made him a 
broad-shouldered, handsome young fellow. 
Even the obnoxious red hair had taken on a 
shade dark enough to be no longer conspic- 
uous ; while there was a gleam of good 
comradeship in Billy's black eye, something 
open and attractive in his sun-burned face. 
As Silas and Prissy had predicted, his career 
in the district school had been highly sue- 


146 How Billy went Up in the World. 

cessful. He had led the boys in every kind 
of mischief known or to be devised. He had 
tormented all the girls, Nan excepted ; but 
he had carried the old will and spirit into 
study. He learned everything between the 
covers of the books he attacked. He spelled 
down the school when occasion offered, and 
no boy learned great swelling orations 
easier, or roared them out more emphatically, 
than Billy Knox, on f< speaking days.” 

The Ellerys continued to befriend him, 
and Silas Barnard many a time had, as Billy 
confessed, made him “ toe the mark,” when 
he was about to cut a quite uncalled for caper 
of some sort. Now “ Will ” was seventeen 
years old. He had learned considerable 
about farm work in the past three years, and 
he liked it well enough to think he would be- 
come a farmer; but he wished first to get 
more of an education. There was in the 
near town of Sefton, an excellent academy, 
where were taught all the higher Eng- 


Three Years Later. 147 

lish branches, as well as Greek and Latin. 

Billy — for so his farm friends continued to 
call him — resolved to give himself, by some 
means, at least one school year at the Aca- 
demy. Accordingly, one morning, late in 
the summer, he started for Sefton, to see 
how this might be accomplished. As he 
passed the cottage, Prissy Tarbox called to 
him to stop there a moment, while she made 
ready a parcel to send by him. 

“All right,” he returned, going in to see 
granny, who sat comfortably enjoying the 
late breakfast that Prissy had set out for her. 
It seemed to Billy that three years had made 
granny younger. Indeed, she had, after one 
severe attack of illness, recovered more 
strength of body and greater clearness of 
mind than she had possessed for a long time 
previous. To be sure, this morning she 
asked Billy three times, with eager curiosity, 
where he was going ; and she forgot almost 
immediately the answer she received ; but 


148 How Billy went Up in the World, 

she remembered that he had mended her 
rocking-chair the day before, and now insist- 
ed on his sitting in it. 

“ So you’re going to try town-life a while, 
are you?” asked Prissy, tying her bundle. 
“ How are you going to manage ? ” 

“Well, you know the fourth story of the 
Academy is divided into rooms for fellows 
from the country. They can bring their 
provisions from home, cook for themselves, 
or board in town ; the room rent is small.” 

“ What are you going to do ? ” 

“ I can tell you better when I have found 
out. If you’ll lend me a loaf of bread I’ll 
tuck it under my arm and play I am Benja- 
min Franklin. I am as poor as he was and 
twice as promising, if my friends only thought 
so. You know I’ll be a great success in 
some line, don’t you, granny ?” 

The old woman set down her trembling 
cup and let her mild blue eyes rest on the 
boyish face, as she answered, tenderly : 


Three Years Later. 


149 


“ Yes, Ben, if you start right.” 

Prissy smiled, thinking of Ben Franklin, 
but Billy knew she thought him the little 
Ben who long ago started right, and that in 
heaven, not here. He said, as Prissy gave him 
the bundle : 

“ How shall I start right?” 

“Take with you the message for to-day. 
See, Prissy has it ready for me every morning.” 

Billy followed the glance of her eye toward 
the wall, where just a little higher than her 
head hung her “ texts,” in great printed let- 
ters — “ There, child, you couldn’t start with a 
better one. Just you go saying, honestly : 
‘ Teach me to do thy will ; for thou art my 
God : thy Spirit is good : lead me into the 
land of uprightness.’” 

“ Sefton is a pretty hard town. I don’t 
believe it’s located in that land,” said Billy, 
lightly, but under his breath ; then giving 
the old lady a kindly pat on her bent shoul- 
ders, he was off again. 


150 How Billy went Up in the World. 

The Sefton Academy was a great stone 
building, quite picturesque, being overrun 
with vines, and standing in a grove of maple 
and elm trees. The principal and his family 
occupied part of the first floor, the second 
and third floors were for recitation and 
assembly rooms : the upper floor was re- 
served for the purpose mentioned. Billy 
pushed open the great front door and went 
quietly about examining the empty rooms, 
on up through halls, and came at last to the 
“ Boarders’ Hall.” The rooms here were 
low and dark with the smoke of innumera- 
ble messes cooked by generations of boys, 
while the woodwork of every window and 
door was covered with names, pictures, or 
doggerel rhymes. Each room- had a closet, 
but no furniture beyond a “ four-foot,” bed- 
stead, corded with ropes, on which could 
rest the mattress and the boy, to be each 
season provided. A withered old man, with 
his neck curiously awry, was sweeping the 


Three Years Later . 15 1 

hall into which these upper rooms opened, 
and Billy asked him a few questions about 
ways and means. 

‘‘Yes, I know about everything, for I’ve 
took care of this here building goin’ on four- 
teen years. Some rooms is more, some less, 
accordin’ to size and heatin’ conveniences. 
That ’ere north one, now, is big, has two 
closets, and the fellers that had it last year 
could fire up there hot in the coldest 
weather.” 

Billy listened attentively, but with some 
disappointment, on learning that this man 
“ took care ” of the building. He had im- 
agined he might pay his way by some such 
work. 

“ What is the cheapest room here ?” he 
asked, putting his head into a small apart- 
ment with no chimney-hole. 

“ That very cubby-hole you’re in now. It 
can be warmed only by the general heat 
from the hall, and there aint no arrangements 


152 How Billy went Up in the World \ 

for cookin’. ‘ Dingy ?’ Jes so ! Hiram Cox 
had it last year ; he made his coffee over a 
lamp, got something warm at a eatin’ house 
when he was sharp set, and et cold snacks 
the rest of the time.” 

“ Hiram is still alive, I suppose ?” said 
Billy, musing, as he stood by the window. 
He wanted to be entirely self-supporting 
throughout this school year — how was he 
going to be so ? He studied the church 
steeples, the long shaded streets, looked 
away to the distant hills, and the line of 
woods beyond the river, glittering in the 
noon-day sun. Then he called out to the 
old man, who was about departing with his 
broom and dust-pan : 

“ Do you know any way a fellow could 
get outside work enough to keep him here ?” 

“ Well, this Hi Cox did that very thing, 
but for the life of me, I don’t remember what 
twas. Kind of seems as if some old maid 
hired him to — to — well, I give it up !” 


Three Years Later. 153 

“ I wish I knew what he did. Any old 
maid may have me for ordinary work, or for 
ornamental purposes, if she will pay me for 
the time out of school.” 

There was something about Billy that 
interested “Uncle Zeph,” who came in and 
perched himself on the old bedstead to rest, 
putting the broom between his legs, and 
twisting one arm around the tall post. 

“ Do you know any of the Sefton folks ?” 

“ Some of them.” 

“ Know old Doctor Higbee?” 

“ I’ve seen him racing around the country 
in a two-wheeled ‘ shay/ with half a dozen 
dogs behind him.” 

“Yes, he likes dogs : he’s a queer case, 
old Higbee is ! You needn’t never go near 
him if you ain’t got something awful ailing 
of you. He’ll act madder than a hornet if 
you pester him with little aches and ails. 
My wife ’s weakly, and one spell her stomach 
ached — betwixt you and me, and this bed- 


1 54 How Billy went Up in the World . 

post that was about all there was of it ; but 
nothin’ would do but she must consult Doc- 
tor Higbee. She’d figgured out fust what 
did ail her, and she mostly wanted to go and 
tell him. She said her in’erds was ossified 
partly, and partly they was all galvanized 
over with a fungus growth ; and how on 
arth was I to know t’want so, if Silome said 
’twas so ? I jest took her and went canterin’ 
over to the office. Well, old Higbee set to 
and berated her for eatin’ salt pork, pickles, 
mince pie and green tea for her supper ; and 
he never give her medicine enough to kill a 
kitten. He neglects folks that way, awfully, 
till they git just to where Death’s sort o’ got 
one claw on ’em ; then, I tell you, there’s a 
free fight betwixt him and the old doctor. 
Why, the sick ’un will fairly get one foot into 
the tomb, but old Higbee will have a grip 
on his coat tails and yank — yank him back 
every time. He beats many a time after the 


Three Years Later. 


155 


heirs-at-law have bought black kids for the 
funeral. He ” — 

Billy began to betray his impatience, and 
laughingly exclaimed: “But I havn’t got 
the stomach-ache, nor one foot in the tomb.’' 

“ No, no, certainly not ; but the old doc- 
tor, you know, why, he has hired one boy off 
and on for one thing or another, he ” — 

“Where does he live?” 

“ Next the Methodist church, in a big red 
brick house, and his sign is over the door.” 

Uncle Zeph was perfectly willing to sit 
still a while longer, in order to find out 
leisurely where Billy came from, and all about 
him ; but in a moment the young fellow was 
whistling down the old worn staircase, with 
full purpose of mind to find Doctor Higbee. 
This was easily done, for his house was only 
a block away, and the old gentleman himself 
stood on the piazza, awaiting some one or some 
thing. Billy gave a quick look at his 
weather-beaten face, framed around with 


156 How Billy went Up in the World, 

yellow hair, which was gray and white in 
patches ; then he explained in the briefest 
way that he was looking for work, and under 
what conditions he hoped to find it. 

“ Know anything about horses ?” 

“ Everything about them,” returned Billy. 

The doctor put a few more questions, then 
remarked : “ A woman rules every house. 
I havn’t any wife, but my sister keeps us all 
in order here. She has said lately she wouldn’t 
have any more hired men eating and sleep- 
ing in the house. The last one broke the 
cook’s heart, and then eloped with the 
chamber-maid. Catherine ! Come to the 
door a minute !” 

In response to his call, which came from 
no weak lungs, a tall, prim lady appeared, a 
polished, metallic kind of a spinster, clad in 
spotless steel gray. She heard what the 
doctor and Billy had to say ; then she was 
inclined to make terms with the latter. After 
further consultation, the old gentleman made 


Three Years Later . 157 

this proposal. Billy was to do all necessary 
work at the stable, morning, noon and night. 
He was, as soon as the weather grew cold, 
to bring coal and feed the furnace which 
warmed the house, and to empty the ashes. 
Later yet, he must shovel snow from the 
walks about the place. He must, when re- 
quired, sit and study evenings in the doctor’s 
office, in order to receive messages when the 
old gentleman was out. For these, and 
some other lighter duties, Billy was offered 
an amount sufficient to pay all his weekly 
expenses, if he lived with the utmost econ- 
omy. The contract was made on the spot, 
and Billy returned to the Academy with a 
light heart. He found old Uncle Zeph still 
busy, and this time he fully satisfied his curi- 
osity regarding himself, while he told him 
of his bargain with the doctor, adding : 

“ Now, I can engage a room here, and be 
on hand when the term commences. You 
better save this little rat hole for me.” 


158 How Billy went Up in the World. 

“No, you don’t need to have that. You 
just engage half this good-sized west room, 
that can have a stove in it. Somebody will 
take the other half quick enough, and there 
you are, as fine as a fiddle. I’ll see you have 
a decent chap in with you. Squire Ellery 
has done me more ’n one favor ; I can do 
that much for one that’s anything to him. 
Though, if you ain’t really one of the family, 
I may say, that Stan Ellery was about the 
worst cut of anything we ever had in this 
school. I was proper glad to see the last of 
him. I heard no tutor would teach him, 
and he had to come here. Where is he, 
now ?” 

“ He is here in Sefton, reading law.” 

“Reading law!” sneered Uncle Zeph. 
“ Well, good morning to you, Knox. I 
s’pose you’ll be fetchin’ your traps over a 
day or two before school ?” 

“Yes; Mother Ellery says she shall come 
over and see I have a nail to hang a towel 


Three Years Later. 159 

on — and a towel for the nail/’ laughed Billy, 
starting for the home tramp. 

When Billy reported proceedings to the 
family, everybody was pleased. Mr. Ellery 
had intended to send him to school that year 
at his own expense, if the young fellow found 
no work ; but he thought it best to let Billy 
be independent just as far as possible. 

Nan had attended a girls’ school in Sefton 
for a long time. She boarded in the town 
from Monday until Friday night, but came 
home always to spend Saturday and Sunday. 
She was glad Billy was to be near her, as he 
might sometimes be of service to her. She 
had ceased to look at him entirely in the 
light of a servant. In mental ability and in 
physical endowments he was the equal of 
any farmer’s son of his age in the community. 
Nan and he had frequent brisk encounters of 
their wits, and at such times each spoke with 
great plainness. 

In the beginning of Billy’s career he had 


160 How Billy went Up in the World \ 

“ hated ” all girls, but after brief acquaintance 
he accepted Nan as a girl almost “ wide 
awake enough to be a boy.” At this pe- 
riod of Billy’s existence, he was somewhat 
given to attending singing-schools, for the 
sake of the “girls.” He often wfote in their 
autograph books, and made them, at least 
several of them, rings out of carved nut- 
shells. Toward Nan only, his sentiments 
remained the same, and he was careful that 
she should never classify him as a “spoony.” 
He feared her sharp little tongue, which sel- 
dom spared him any railing, if, in her opin- 
ion, his foibles deserved her sarcasm or 
ridicule. But she could be very pleasant 
and unselfish ; as, for instance, she was at 
this time, in helping Billy get his room at the 
Academy in order. 

One day, after much debate, and no little 
work, Mrs. Ellery and Nan requested Billy 
to get out the “lumber wagon,” and aid 
them in getting his housekeeping apparatus 


Three Years Later. 161 

over to Sefton, that they might personally 
superintend its arrangement after it arrived 
there. This was accordingly done ; then, a 
few days before the school began, the three 
went over and made the place very attractive 
in Billy’s estimation. They took comfortable 
bedding, bright calico curtains, a big red 
wooden arm-chair, a good lamp, and all 
needed dishes. 

“ Now mind what I say, my boy,” said 
good Mrs. Ellery ; “ spend your wages for 
proper clothing and books, but don’t bother 
yourself to buy things to eat.” 

Before she could add anything,. Billy gave 
a low boyish howl of disappointment, and ex- 
postulated with her thus : 

“ But I must eat sometimes ; say on Sun- 
days, just a morsel. My education is going 
to my head, not into my stomach.” 

“ Now be still, Billy. I mean that when 
we come in for Nan, Fridays, and again to 
bring her back Mondays, I shall send you 
1 1 


1 62 How Billy went Up in the World. 

bread, butter, cold meat, beans, pie and 
doughnuts. Bakery food is poor stuff, and 
any messes you would cook up would be 
worse yet.” 

“ Oh, Billy can make custard, mother,” 
exclaimed Nan, who was spreading out a 
yellow calico bed-quilt, on whose glowing 
surface blossomed blood-red tulips and 
grass-green rushes. This last was Prissy’s 
contribution. 

“ Don’t you remember the day he surpris- 
ed us with one, when we came home from 
Langham — ten eggs to a quart of milk, and 
flavored it with essence of peppermint ?” 

Billy tried to overpower her laughter with 
loud driving of tacks. He endured a great 
deal of teasing meekly, seeing how busy her 
deft hands were working for his comfort. 

Nan was a bright little girl. Everybody 
said “little,” although she was seventeen, but 
she had put on no young lady airs and 
graces. Her hair hung down her back in 


Three Years Later. 163 

the same dark “pig tail,” as Billy ungal- 
lantly styled it, and her simple dresses were 
still short enough to show her trim ankles. 

“ There,” said Mrs. Ellery, at last. “ You 
have things enough to be quite comfortable 
here, even if your room-mate should not pro- 
vide his share. I hope he will be somebody 
well disposed ; no fellow with bad or disa- 
greeable habits.” 

“ I hope not, but it wont matter so much. 
I can stand it if he is not a very tame ani- 
mal, for I shall be in school-rooms during 
school hours and at the doctors a good 
share of the time out of school.” 

“There will be Saturdays and Sundays. I 
want you to go to church every Sunday, Billy.” 

“ I will go as regularly as the parson him- 
self.” 

The room was in perfect order before sun- 
set ; then Mrs. Ellery and Nan went home. 
Billy locked his door, gave the key to uncle 
Zeph, and did an errand or two in town be- 


164 How Billy went Up in the World . 

fore going to the farm. He was very hope- 
ful and happy as he walked the pleasant 
streets in the golden afternoon light. The 
change of work, the new habits of life to be 
for a while his, seemed really delightful. 
He planned to make the most of every 
moment. Sefton had a fine public library ; 
surely he could get some time to read. 
Nan told of many fine free lectures; he 
might very likely attend some of these. 
Doctor Higbee had said he should not want 
him every evening. As he turned a corner 
he came in near sight of a great yellow 
show bill, and could not repress a derisive 
laugh at the pictured semicircle of “ negro,” 
minstrels ; but after the laugh he stood 
soberly regarding the “end man.” He was 
mentally putting himself in this man’s place, 
and wondering if he wanted his life, his pay 
— and if not, why not. 

“ He makes money ; I don’t get half as 
much — he sees the world as I don’t — I am 


Three Years Later . 165 

greener now, I suppose, than I was at eleven ; 
then you might throw me into any city and 
I should alight on my feet like a cat, and 
find my living anywhere ; but as little Ben 
said, * It isn’t being a man,’ to fool through 
the days and years as this fellow does with 
his burnt cork. I gained more than shows 
right on the surface when I went over the 
fence that day to work for ‘ Squire Ellery,’” 
and turning away from the hand-bill, the 
ruddy-cheeked fellow bethought himself of 
the home he had found, and the family that 
seemed now almost like his own kin. Their 
interests were his, and his were theirs. Mrs. 
Ellery gave him the counsels of a mother, 
and many sisters were less kind than Nan. 

“ I’ve had a good chance to make a 
decent chap of myself, and if I don’t I ought 
to be thrashed and sent to the penitentiary,” 
was the summing up of the matter in Billy’s 
mind, and he went home hopeful and content, 
as if he had been the son of a millionaire. 


CHAPTER X. 


A NEW IMPULSE. 


LL went well with Billy in the very 



first weeks at the academy. His work 
at Doctor Higbee’s stable was not at 
all burdensome, and there was as yet no 
other tasks about the house to perform. In 
school he easily acquired the good-will of the 
teachers and of his fellow-students. His 
room-mate was a tall delicate fellow, with 
such refined quiet ways that he made Billy 
feel at first shy and awkward ; but Ned Fen- 
ton put on no airs of superiority. He frank- 
ly admired Billy’s “muscle.” He added his 
finer contributions to the furniture of their 
room without any parade ; and after a little 
good-natured raillery at Prissy’s taste in 


A New Impulse . 


167 


bed-quilts, won Billy’s favor. Ned was the 
only son of a clergyman’s widow. He was 
cared for and educated by his wealthy grand- 
mother, with whom his mother, who had 
been left poor, made her home. He had 
never been strong, so he had become rather 
self-indulgent. Billy could hardly think him 
lazy ; yet when not, as he frequently was, ex- 
cited by fun making, or interested in the 
pursuits most congenial to his tastes, Ned 
seemed to dread exertion, mental or physical. 
He would lie in bed in the morning until an 
hour which Billy thought ridiculously late ; 
then would get up with an abused, dogged 
air, half assumed and comical, half real and 
felt. The next thing in order was the mak- 
ing of his strong coffee, of which he drank 
inordinately ; then he was ready for study. 
When Billy left him, at an early hour in the 
evening, he had usually disposed of his les- 
sons — for he learned rapidly — and was deep 
in some old book or new magazine. It 


168 How Billy went Up in the World. 

seemed to his simple room-mate that Ned had 
read every book known in literature; and he 
looked up to him as to a superior intellect. 
In fact, young Fenton had good literary taste ; 
he had also a quick, sensitive mind, appreci- 
ative of the best, if not powerful in all its 
workings. 

It was a rule of the Academy that every 
student on the “fourth story” should attend 
some church on Sunday morning. It was 
old Uncle Zeph’s duty to see that every fel- 
low was out of his room by half-past ten. 
Very few attempted to cheat him, and fewer 
succeeded in so doing ; but occasionally boys 
who were not in their rooms on Sunday 
were not in church. 

From the first Billy had, according to his 
promise made to Mrs. Ellery, gone regular- 
ly to the church which Nan attended, and he 
also entered a Sunday-school class. He 
might not have done this last unsolicited, but 
as he stood in the church vestibule, after the 


A New Impulse. 


169 


morning service one Sunday, a gentleman 
asked him into a Bible class. He found, a 
little to his surprise, Ned Fenton seated in 
the class, - as if he had long belonged there. 
It was evident that the latter was at home in 
such places. He answered readily questions 
on matters of religious belief and practice, 
when the other members of the class seemed, 
like Billy, unable to bring much of an an- 
swer out of any inner experience, or prompt- 
ly to compose one from thoughtful observa- 
tion. This puzzled Billy somewhat, but he 
reflected that Ned was a ministers son, and 
must have heard much discussion of religious 
topics. 

Billy’s evenings were usually spent in the 
doctor’s office, but this Sunday evening he 
was at liberty. After supper he said to Ned, 
who was idly drumming on the window-pane: 

“What are you going to do to-night ?” 

“I don’t know. Do you like hymn-sing- 
ing?” 


i 70 How Billy went Up in the World 

That depends. I like some hymns and 
some singing — my own not much, and yours 
not at all.” 

“ Humph ! Ever go to a gospel meet- 
ing ?” 

“Why, I suppose so. I never went to any 
other sort.” 

“ I’ll wager you have. Well, there’s one 
held by the Young Men’s Christian Associa- 
tion, in a hall in Cleaver Street. We’ll go.” 

“Why isn’t it in a church?” 

“Oh, it is to draw in folks that might not 
go into a church. They sing well ; that is 
the reason I go sometimes.” Ned spoke in 
a very indifferent tone ; but he began to put 
on his coat, so Billy arose and followed him. 

The “gospel meeting” was like many 
others held all over the land, but it had some 
new features to Billy. He liked the easy, 
informal exercises, the frequent singing by 
all the people of the inspiring hymns. He 
had always attended church, because the 


A New Impulse . 171 

Ellery family did so, and he considered it 
right and becoming ; but he had never been 
consciously moved out of his peace of mind 
by any sermon ever heard. 

This night, toward the end of the meeting, 
his attention wandered, and he was review- 
ing a certain mathematical problem, when a 
plain faced, quiet man began to talk, as if 
he were urging something deeply felt by 
himself on some one hearer in whom he was 
personally interested. “Seek ye first the 
kingdom of God and his righteousness 
that was his message : for like a message it 
came slowly and solemnly to Billy. At first 
he listened because the man meant what he 
said ; then because the man’s meaning held 
him. There was a God. He had always 
said he believed it ; but had he ever realized 
the awful thought of God and himself, one in 
relation to the other ? Never ! God had a 
kingdom, and reigned in heaven — yes, Billy 
had calmly accepted that ; but he reigned in 


172 How Billy went Up in the World. 

some human hearts — of that he had not rea- 
soned. As the man told of that reign — that 
it meant active love ; fervent toward the 
heavenly Father, helpful toward every human 
creature — meant pardon of sin, help in temp- 
tation, a light on all life, an indescribable, 
wistful sadness took hold of Billy. He had 
felt it more faintly just once before. It was 
that spring morning when a tender sunshine 
rested on the earth, and he, sitting desolate 
in the old doorway, peered in where he 
could see the white apple blossoms around 
little white Ben ; and there stirred in him 
regret, a sense of something sweet and pure 
that he was missing. Then he only dully 
knew that he could not enter that kingdom, 
which the neighbors whispered about as the 
home of the child. That, as a result of that 
longing, he took a long step towards better 
things by going to the farmer, he was not 
aware. But to-night, when the man dwelt on 
the words, “ Seek ye/’ Billy clearly felt that a 


l 73 


A New Impulse . 

call had come to him which he must deliberate- 
ly comply with, or as deliberately refuse. He 
had not lived these last years in a Christian 
family without learning, intellectually, what 
was meant by a Christian life; but, until 
now, he had never in his heart asked : 

“What is my life ? What do I want it to 
be ? What ought it to be ?” 

He looked at Ned, and saw him yawn, as 
if a little weary of the speaker. The man, 
and his words, so affected Billy, he had 
supposed he must be holding everyone’s 
attention. 

“ They won’t sing any more to amount to 
anything. Let us go,” whispered Ned, as 
the speaker sat down. 

Billy felt a sudden desire to get away from 
the place — perhaps from its influence, and he 
went out without remonstrance. 

“Rather dull to-night; they often are,” 
said Ned, as they sauntered home in the 
clear starlight. 


1 74 How Billy went Up in the World. 

His companion made no response ; he was 
lost in thought. They soon passed a little 
shop, half restaurant, half confectioner’s, and 
Ned stopped before the lighted window. 

“ Hold on a minute, Knox. I am awfully 
thirsty. I’ll have a glass of beer ; don’t you 
want one ?” 

No; I’ll walk on,” returned Billy. 

“Very well; I’ll overtake you. I like 
beer : I ought to have been a Dutchman. 
I’d have a keg for home consumption, if it 
wasn’t against Academy rules.” 

Billy hardly heard him. He had seen so 
many noisy rum-holes, that this quiet spot 
in the pretty town did not seem to him very 
objectionable. He walked along under the 
trees until Ned caught up with him again. 

“ Don’t you ever drink beer ?” he asked, 
a little curiously. 

“No.” 

“ You don’t think it wrong, do you ?” 

“You weren’t brought up on it, were you ?” 


A New Impulse. 


175 


“ In a parson’s family ? No indeed !” 

“ Well, I was not either, but my nursery 
was a sort of a beer garden, as you might 
say. My father drank — anything — every- 
thing but water ; and beer was to him when 
he couldn’t get whiskey, what bread is to a 
fellow who can’t get meat. My mother was 
good as gold, but all the other women in the 
tenement house guzzled beer incessantly. 
They were always slapping along the pave- 
ment in slip-shod old shoes, a dirty shawl 
over their heads, and a broken-nosed pitcher 
in their hands, after beer — beer. When 
their hungry young ones yelled they made 
them sleepy with it, and when these young 
ones grew a little older they spent their own 
pennies for it. I was in the beer business 
myself once. There was an old hag in a 
cellar near by our street, who took me into 
partnership. I used to go around with a tin 
pail, getting slops and dregs from the bottom 
of the beer casks at doors when they were 


i 76 How Billy went Up in the World. 

sending them to be refilled. She gave me a 
few coppers, and made much more by ped- 
dling this stuff for half the price of the better 
article. I think I got enough of beer in 
those days.” 

Billy’s tone was not in the least vehement, 
or like one who lectures another. He 
seemed coolly accounting for a personal 
peculiarity. He had forgotten the whole 
conversation when they reached home ; but 
he was not in a lively mood. Usually he 
liked to talk; so Ned, finding him pre-occu- 
pied, took a book and was soon lost in its 
contents. About eleven o’clock, the latter, 
looking up, saw him still gazing at the one 
picture that adorned their walls, but not as 
if greatly interested in it. 

“ What are you thinking about, old fellow? 
I thought you had gone to bed.” 

“ Fenton, you are a — you ought to know 
about all these things, if you are a minis- 
ter’s son. Now, about how much must a 


1 77 


A New Impulse . 

body discount on that man’s talk to-night ?” 

“ What man’s talk?” was Ned’s bewildered 
question. 

“ The one who talked about ‘ seeking the 
kingdom of God and his righteousness and 
did it every bit as earnestly as if he was sell- 
ing western land, and expected to make 
something out of you and me.” 

“Why, he meant it, of course. He’s a 
kind of city missionary, who comes here 
occasionally.” 

“ And you believe every word he says ?” 

“Why, yes — all that I can remember of 
that he said to-night.” 

“ Then, why are you not doing some- 
thing ; or why haven’t you done something 
about it ?” 

“ What on earth are you talking about ?” 
asked Ned, tossing his book aside and facing 
Billy. 

“If it is all true, why are you not a 
Christian ?” 


12 


178 How Billy went Up in the World. 

“ Are you one yourself ?” 

“ No.” 

Ned flushed a little, glanced at Billy, and 
remarked : 

“ I am — a member of the church.” 

“A Christian?” asked Billy, so quickly 
that Ned was forced to reply : 

“ Of course — I suppose so.” 

“ I should think you’d know what you 
were.” 

It was impossible to take offence where 
none was meant; and as Billy’s voice was 
full of curiosity, Ned said : 

“ If you had been brought up as I have 
been, perhaps you would not be able to tell 
what you had found out for yourself from 
what people had told you about everything 
religious. You don’t want any beer, because 
you had so much around you when you were 
young. I don’t listen with great enthusiasm 
to every sermon, for I’ve heard ten thousand 
odd in the course of my life.” 


179 


A New Impulse. 

“You believe in them?” persisted Billy. 

“Yes, certainly.” 

There was a long silence after that, but at 
last it was broken by Ned, who arose, and 
stretching himself, said lazily : 

“ I haven’t much backbone, I can tell you, 
in the outset. You’ll not think much of me 
in the long run. I always do what I feel 
like doing.” 

Billy said nothing, and soon there was 
silence and darkness in the old Academy ; 
but one boy was not asleep. It was charac- 
teristic of Billy to look at issues squarely, 
and to act, if he saw the time had come for 
action. He went over and over the late 
sermon, and at last there, in the darkness, rev- 
erently, with full purpose of heart to “ seek,” 
that kingdom learned of, he prayed in the 
very words given him by poor old granny : 
“ Teach me to do thy will ; for thou art my 
God : thy spirit is good ; lead me into the 
land of uprightness.” 


1 80 How Billy went Up in the World . 

Ned saw no great or immediate change 
in him from that time, although he noticed 
that he was interested in his Sunday-school 
class ; so much so, he seemed to study his 
lesson during the week ; and as he put it, 
Knox was always “ on the square.” Ned’s 
own profession having little to do with his 
conduct, he was not inclined to criticise 
Billy for not defining his position more fully. 

Ned Fenton was somewhat older than 
Billy, and the latter was not surprised to 
learn from him that he was an acquaintance 
of Stan Ellery. In fact, before they had 
been long together at the Academy, Stan 
one day walked into their room. He had 
always kept on good terms with Billy ; but 
it is not probable he would have come to see 
him, had Ned not been his room-mate. 

These two talked of many people unknown 
to Billy, for both of them were in a sense 
“ in society,” — while Billy had his own po- 
sition to make hereafter in the social world. 


A New Impulse . 181 

Stan, as a young man of property, education, 
and refined (?) manners, visited the best fami- 
lies of the town, and Ned might do the same 
whenever he chose. 

“ By the way, Stan,” asked Ned, as 
young Ellery, tipping back in his chair, put 
his heels on top of their small stove, “ I’ve 
meant to ask you before this, who that 
mighty pretty girl was I saw you with at a 
concert one Wednesday evening not long 
ago. I have not seen such bright eyes in an 
age.” 

“Wednesday — bright eyes? O that is 
Nan ! Awful pity she is my cousin, and 
knows me like a book, for she is getting so 
saucy it would be downright fun to flirt 
with her.” 

,, Well, I’m not her own cousin, and she 
don’t know me ; suppose you flirt by proxy. 
If you will introduce Miss Nan to me, she 
may be just as saucy as she likes. I hate 
insipid girls.” 


1 82 How Billy went Up in the World. 

“All right, young man,” said Stan. 
“ Come around to-morrow night, and I’ll 
take you to see her, and several other pretty 
girls. They are. all young. Nan has only 
just put her hair up like a young lady — but 
they are nice. They board with a proper 
old maid who don’t let them run wild, by any 
means ; but being one of Uncle Zeph’s fam- 
ily, or about the same as that, I go to see 
Nan any time. Of course, I can take a 
friend. It will be a good idea, for she 
bothered me about to death last winter to 
go skating with her. I’ll put you in her 
charge, vice versa ; and when the time comes, 
if you are fools enough to like the ice, you 
can freeze in one another’s society.” 

“ Stan, you’re a trump ! Isn’t there some- 
thing or other I can do for you ?” 

“ Yes, come back to the club.” 

“ Oh, I can’t afford it ; or if I can spare 
the fees, 1 can’t spend the time.” 

“ Nonsense ! Come over to-morrow night; 


A New Impulse. 


183 

we’re going to have some fun. If you will, 
I’ll tell Nan no end of fine things about you, 
before I trot you out.” 

“ Oh, go along! You needn’t ‘paint the 
lily and gild the rose.’ I’ll speak for my- 
self, if you give me the chance.” 

“ Havn’t a doubt of it. Girls are gener- 
ally geese enough to like a lazy, indifferent 
wretch like you. Your miserable liver 
makes you pale, and I presume she’ll fancy 
you’re killing yourself with hard study.” 

A boot-jack was aimed at Stan’s head, but 
it struck the wall, already battered beyond 
injury, while Stan, calmly “ducking” to 
avoid it, went on. “ Here’s Billy now, all 
brawn and muscle ; he’s worth six of us for 
all practical purposes ; but I bet you, not a 
girl in Nan’s ‘set,’ as she calls it, would see 
anything about Billy but the size of his boots.” 

“ They’d be taken up with a big subject, 
even then,” laughed Billy, who sat writing 
not far off. He laughed, but he was not 


184 How Billy went Up in the World. 

wholly amused. His boots were big, but so 
was he, and he had no desire to shrink. He 
did not wish to belong to any club. The 
fun Stan enjoyed would be too costly, even 
if it would have suited his taste in other 
respects. He did not expect, later in the 
season, to have many leisure hours in which 
he could skate, and he had not proposed to 
himself ever to go skating with Nan. It did 
occur to him now that he might do this un- 
der some circumstances. No, perhaps not. 
Nan at home, he could meet on easy terms 
of familiarity ; but Nan in town, with stylish 
young friends, would, perhaps, not want her 
father’s farm-hand for an escort. Be that as 
it might, Billy was not glad to have Stan 
make Ned acquainted with Nan. It was 
not that he did not see a great deal that 
was agreeable and attractive about his room- 
mate, for he did see his many fine qualities. 
It did not once come home to Billy, that in 
his own acknowledgment of this last fact, was 
the real secret of his uneasiness. 


I 


CHAPTER XI. 

AT THE RED COTTAGE. 

^ A NY messages left with you while I 
was out?” asked the old doctor, 
shaking himself free from his great coat, and 
sitting down by the office fire. 

“An old lady called — Mrs. McGerald, and 
left word that she needed a tonic. She 
thought some strong bitters would do her 
good,” replied Billy. 

“ Til warrant she said that ! Well, bitters 
she shall have ; but she won’t be suited, not if 
they are as bitter even as the gall of bitterness 
the good Book speaks of. There are bitters 
and bitters. I never expected to see Mrs. 
McGerald again after any more of my bit- 
ters, because there was only a gill of whiskey 


1 86 How Billy went Up in the World. 

in the last that I made her, and she thinks a 
pint is little enough. If I’d give her a quart 
flavored with ginger and orange peel, and 
tell her to take it whenever she ‘ felt gone 
inside,’ she’d have more faith in me than she 
has now. I tell you what, young man, if I 
should prescribe ‘ bitters ’ to all the women 
who tell me they need ‘ toning up,’ I could 
keep a precious lot of ’em ‘ high ’ most of the 
time.” 

“ What do drinking women come to a 
doctor for ?” 

“ Drinking women ! Why, they are 
many of them the first ladies of the town. 
They don’t drink, they only crave a stimu- 
lant, and the more ‘ bitters ’ they take, the 
more they want. There is one lady in the 
town who would use such an amount, I re- 
fused to give her any ; but her son had to 
come and beg me to supply her with what 
she demanded, only making it as weak as 
possible ; otherwise she would get the liquor 


i«7 


A t the Red Cottage . 

from headquarters. When she had poured 
it, full strength, over the dregs of her last 
bitters, it was medicine, of course. He said 
the sediment in one pint bottle lasted out 
three quarts of Jamaica rum. She took bit- 
ters when faint before her meals, bitters after 
eating to aid digestion, bitters to overcome 
sleeplessness, bitters when she was chilled, 
bitters for a ‘ low state of the blood ’ — bitters 
early, and bitters late.” 

“ Why, do they like the taste of the nasty 
stuff?” 

“ No ; or they would not take it, if the taste 
was all there was to it.” 

“Well, if it is the effect they want, why 
not take the pure liquor ?” 

“ Their consciences wouldn’t allow that. 
It must be medicine for their stomachs’ 
sake,” grunted the old doctor. 

“ How funny ! I should think they would 
take wine, or even beer.” 

“ Bless your heart, boy ! they do all that. 


1 88 How Billy went Up in the World, 

Why, one lady — she used to be my patient, 
but is not now, because I told her once she 
had ‘ hysterics’ — this lady took strong bitters 
for medicine, port wine for a tonic, and beer 
to ‘ aid digestion and induce sleep.’ Her 
husband used to tell me he believed he 
should buy a distillery, and have done with it, 
for he was tired of running around to fill 
small orders.” 

“ Such men must be mighty pusillanimous. 
Why don’t they put a stop to the whole 
thing — -just put their foot down ?” exclaimed 
Billy. 

“ Ho ! ho !” chuckled Dr. Higbee. “ You’ll 
be wiser when your beard is grown. Set 
your foot down — what on, pray ? This wo- 
man’s husband is a temperance man, and is 
as big as the Cardiff Giant besides ; but 
when she drops back, throws up her delicate 
hands, gasps, and can only just pant out a 
request for something ‘ stimulating ’ — do you 
suppose he dare say : ‘You can’t have it ; it 


189 


At the Red Cottage . 

is against my principles ?’ Of course he 
can’t ! The kinder hearted he is, the quicker 
he runs for the brandy bottle.” 

“ Well, then, why don’t he argue with his 
wife and convince her of her folly ?” 

The old doctor gave Billy the benefit of a 
prolonged grin, before he returned: “ You are 
not married yet, neither am I — but I’m ac- 
quainted with a great many married women. 
I have the highest opinion of them. It is my 
private and professional opinion, in fact, that 
the world could not get on well without 
them ; but every one of them can out-argue 
her husband, and when she has convinced 
herself, she is convinced, and that’s the end 
of it.” 

Billy sat eyeing a box of pills : he was 
silent, as became his youth and inexperience. 
The doctor’s next remark was a little unex- 
pected : 

“ Bitters are expensive, and hysterics are 
troublesome, but some women have neither. 


190 How Billy went Up in the World. 

So taking them all as they come, like 
needles, sharps, flats and assorted, I think 
they are a mighty sight better than men. 
Get a wife as soon as you can take good 
care of her. I should have done the same, 
long ago, if folks had ever given me a 
chance to attend to it between office hours. 
If I were to get one as far as the altar to- 
day, before I could say ‘yes,’ I’ll wager the 
parson himself would take that time to have 
a fit, and need my services more than I 
needed his.” 

The doctors tone was as serious as possi- 
ble ; moreover, he seemed in an unusually 
social mood, for he poked the fire, and lean- 
ing back in his great arm-chair, asked, gra- 
ciously : 

“ What are you going to make of yourself, 
Knox ?” 

“ Well, I think it is likely that I shall be a 
farmer.” 

“ Good for you ! If one-half the young 


At the Red Cottage. 19 1 

fellows that set out to wear a white choker, 
or to carry medicine chests, would go on 
farms, they would be better off, and so would 
the rest of mankind. It is clean work, mo- 
rally, and ” — 

There was a loud rap on the office door, 
and when Billy opened it a boy shouted out : 

“ Miss Perkins wants the doctor, quick ; 
she’s most dying.” 

“ She aint either, no where near it.” 

“ Wall, she says she is, and they want you 
quick.” 

“ She has died just so, half a dozen times 
this year; but Fm coming,” growled the doc- 
tor, pulling on his boots. 

Billy, left alone in the office to await his 
return, was laughing to himself at the old 
man’s oddities, and at his advice about matri- 
mony, when he remembered a very import- 
ant event which was to take place on the 
next evening — nothing more or less than a 
wedding. 


192 How Billy went Up in the World ’ 

Silas Barnard and Prissy Tarbox had un- 
deniably reached years of discretion. Silas 
had been very devoted to Prissy for a long 
time. Prissy had been by turns, as Silas 
phrased it, “ getatable, and then again not 
getatable.” She declared she “ never would 
be engaged until she got ready to be married, 
for what was the use ?” Silas would not ask 
her to marry him until he was able to support 
her as well as she could support herself by 
dressmaking, and so months and even years 
had gone by. Now Silas had a snug little 
sum in the bank, and he was quite ready and 
more than willing to marry Prissy. They 
were to remain in the little house, which had, 
however, undergone several decided changes. 
Two rooms had been added, and the whole 
painted and repaired. Granny was to remain 
there the same as before, for Silas was as 
fond of her as was Billy. 

When Dr. Higbee returned, Billy request- 
ed leave of absence for the next night, and 


l 9 3 


At the Red Cottage . 

was told that he could attend the wedding, 
of which we will now go on to speak in detail. 

It was a cold, starlit night in January when 
Billy arrived, a little late, at the cottage, and 
found assembled there a small but merry 
company. Prissy’s new “ parlor ” was as 
pretty as her eye for bright colors and her 
own good sense could make it ; and Prissy 
herself was of course the centre of attraction. 
She looked as much like a rosy apple as ever, 
and was not half as scared as was Silas, 
who would lurk in out-of-the-way corners, 
conscious of an entirety, so to speak, of good 
clothes, never experienced all at once before 
during his existence. 

Mr. and Mrs. Ellery were there, making 
themselves agreeable to the friends and 
neighbors invited ; for neither bride nor 
groom had any relatives present. Billy’s 
first chat was with Prissy, whom he found 
giving a last look at the excellent supper, to be 
attended to later in the evening. 

13 


194 How Billy went Up in the World. 

“How fine you look ! ” he exclaimed, ad- 
miringly. 

“ Well, I hope I aint a perfect fright, 
Billy,” she replied, straightening a platter of 
cold turkey on the table. “Si was for hav- 
ing me wear bride’s white flumididalry, 
but I told him never ! I could neither make 
butter nor go to prayer-meetin’ in a white 
muslin, while a sensible dark blue cashmere 
I could wear, and turn and wash, and dye 
black when I got through with it for best. 
Where is Nan? I thought she was coming 
with you.” 

“ No, her mother says Stan Ellery will 
bring her.” 

“ Yes, I remember now, that Si said Stan 
thought it was such splendid sleighing, may- 
be Nan and he would ride over and bring 
some of their friends. There they are now, 
as likely as not.” 

There was a sound of sleigh-bells and 
merry voices, much stamping of feet and 


195 


At the Red Cottage. 

more laughter before the new comers enter- 
ed. Nan came first, then a fair, tall girl of 
about the same age, then Stan Ellery and 
Ned Fenton. Ned was introduced to Prissy, 
and Billy to the young lady, whose name 
was Sara Wells. While Stan went out again 
to put his horses in his uncle's barn, Ned 
said laughingly to Billy : 

“ I did not tell you I was invited, because 
I am not sure I was asked in any ordinary 
way; but Stan and Miss Ellery were kind 
enough to let me come." 

Prissy assured him that all of Miss Nan’s 
friends would be welcome, if the house would 
only hold them; so Ned proceeded to make 
himself at home. He did it in a pleasing, 
animating way, which Billy found as new as 
interesting. In less than half an hour he 
had talked with Mr. and Mrs. Ellery in a 
frank, intelligent fashion they greatly liked ; 
he had sought out Silas, and made him al- 
most forget that the minister was in the par- 


196 How Billy went Up in the World. 

lor, and that he had got to marry Prissy with 
a ring that he feared much he should drop. 
He had kindly seen to it that Sara Wells 
was not left with people entirely unknown to 
her, and very decidedly he devoted himself 
later to Nan’s entertainment. 

Billy had never seen Nan Ellery look so 
bright and so altogether charming as to- 
night. Her eyes sparkled with mischief, 
and her cheeks were as brilliant as the rose- 
colored ribbons she wore with her dark and 
trim-fitting dress. She was overflowing with 
good spirits and ready to talk with anybody. 
But Billy, for some unaccountable reason, 
could not walk boldly up to her and jest or 
tease her in the old familiar way. He envied 
Ned the ease, the half deferential, half confi- 
dential manner of address so natural to him. 
It must be pleasant, and it must make Ned 
liked by the people whom he' thus approached. 

There were half a dozen nice girls there, 
all old school-mates of Billy, but much to 


197 


At the Red Cottage . 

their surprise, he was as dignified and cere- 
monious as if he had never begged them for 
their photographs or sent them remarkable 
valentines. They resented his gravity a lit- 
tle, but secretly they thought he had “ im- 
proved ; ” therefore it was a pity that this 
last was just what lfe did not think about 
them. He watched them — and Nan, as the 
evening went by. He reflected that where 
Nan was sprightly, they were loud, in an in- 
nocent rustic way, certainly : but their way 
made her way seem doubly pretty and re- 
fined. 

“ How do you get on, Billy, at the Acade- 
my ?” she suddenly asked, standing at his 
side, and adding, in a minute, “your room- 
mate says you are a ‘ living reproach ’ to him, 
because you are so studious. That’s a good 
boy !” 

Billy was almost a six-footer ; but it was 
not his size, as he stood looking down on • 
Nan’s soft hair and her mocking eyes — not 


198 How Billy went Up in the World. 

that which made him feel that he was not a 
“ boy ” any longer. It was instead the clear 
realization that he should never think of Nan 
again as a little girl. His old careless inter- 
course with her was at an end. He had be- 
gun to love her exactly as a young man like 
Ned Fenton, socially her equal, older, better 
read, more polished than he Billy Knox was 
— as such an one might venture, to love the 
young girl whom he hoped to win some day, 
and to marry. He glanced at the older El- 
lerys almost with fear. Nan, their only child, 
the pride of their hearts, the heir to their 
property — and Billy Knox, whom they had 
taken from poverty and ignorance — what if 
they knew his thoughts ? But his thoughts 
were honest, manly and tender ones, if they 
were perhaps presumptuous, and certainly 
not hopeful. Billy, at this crisis in his life, 
was almost morbidly humble. His past was 
. too near him, his future too undefined, even 
in imagination. He could not believe wholly 


1 99 


At the Red Cottage . 

in Prissy Tarbox’s prophecy that “ Some day 
Billy Knox will be as good as anybody, if he 
only keeps on behaving well” 

Soon Nan gave Billy’s elbow a jog, whis-' 
pering, “ Get out of the minister’s way ! 
How much room you take up ! They are go- 
ing to begin now !” 

Somebody looked behind doors and se- 
cured Silas, who, once fairly captured, walked 
out bravely, while Prissy turned pale, but had 
presence of mind enough to stop exactly on 
the pink tulip in her carpet which she had 
previously selected to stand on during the 
ceremony. After the ceremony, which was, 
on Silas’ account, mercifully made brief, sup- 
per was served. 

Billy might have offered his services then 
to either Nan or Sara Wells, for Stan and 
Ned Fenton were blocked up in the opposite 
corner, and could not at once reach them ; 
but he slipped quietly past both to a spot 
where, a little out of the crowd, 4 sat granny. 


200 How Billy went Up in the World. 

Her white hair was no softer than the 
delicate muslin cap that covered it, and her 
plain attire was dainty with careful touches. 
The happy excitement about her had made 
her as eager in enjoyment as a contented 
child. She caught Billy’s arm with both 
her trembling hands and talked to him of 
her new “ son-in-law,” as she was pleased to 
call Silas. She laughed gleefully when 
Billy gallantly saluted her, declaring, if he 
could not get a chance to kiss the bride she 
would do quite as well ; and after he brought 
her the kind and amount of supper she re- 
quired, she murmured lovingly : 

“You have always been such a comfort to 
me, Ben ; but you never stutter now-a- 
days, do you — and you have grown so 
strong.” 

After supper came another hour or two 
of simple enjoyment. 

“ Go and talk to Sara Wells,” said Nan to 

* 

Billy, in her imperative tone and coaxing 


201 


At the Red Cottage . 

smile. “ She is one of the nicest girls you 
ever saw.” 

“ I don’t doubt it ; but what shall I talk to 

# 

her about ? I don’t know how to amuse 
young ladies, as Ned Fenton can.” 

“ Amuse young ladies ! A body would 
think she were a baby, and you had no 
rattle-box for her ! Go and talk sense to 
her.” 

“ Does Ned talk nothing but sense ?” 

“ What Mr. Fenton talks is nothing to do 
with it. He adapts himself to everybody, 
and makes everything he says more or less 
entertaining.” 

“ Yes, he does,” returned Billy, with a 
humility so unusual that Nan gave him a 
sharp glance, which caused him to stammer 
out something about Miss Wells — that she 
might not care to make his acquaintance.” 

“ She cares to know all my friends, and I 
have often spoken to her of you.” 

“ I wonder what you have said of me ?” 


202 How Billy went Up in the World. 

“ Why, what would I be likely to say ?” 
asked Nan, half pettishly : “ IVe told her 
about home, and you were naturally men- 
tioned as one of us.” 

Billy’s eyes grew suddenly soft, and he 
exclaimed warmly : “ It is very kind in you, 
Nan, to say ‘ one of us.’ ” 

“What else should I say ?” 

“You might say truthfully: ‘the poor 
boy my father took out of charity — the 
ignorant, graceless cub, whom nobody cared 
a cent to save.” 

Nan, though only yesterday a child, was 
now woman enough to feel by one keen 
intuition that some new emotion was stirring 
in Billy. Probably his ambition was awak- 
ened and his pride touched ; but how, she 
could not detect, from his own words. She 
had behind her well understood propensity 
to tease, her mother’s kind heart and her 
father’s good sense. Now therefore she look- 
ed directly into Billy’s face, saying: “ I talk 


203 


A t the Red Cottage. 

of you as you are, and not as you were 
years ago ; you are not ignorant now, and 
you have plenty of friends. Don’t be a goose, 
Billy, and get any poor spirited notions into 
your head.” 

The blood rushed into his face, his voice 
was low, but full of boyish eagerness, as he 
asked: “Tell me this truly, Nan. — If I 
make myself, by hard study and reading, to 
be really intelligent, if I am honest, indus- 
trious, and get on in the world, will good 
sensible people let my early life go for noth- 
ing against me ?” 

“ My father was a poor boy, and he earned 
all his property, and worked hard for his 
education ; does anybody remember that 
against him ?” 

The young man’s face was very bright, as 
he replied, “ No, indeed !” 

In a moment he continued, cheerfully, “ I 
am glad to remember one thing ; my mother 
came from a respectable Scotch family, and 


204 How Billy went Up in the World \ 

my father, when she married him, was a so- 
ber, decent man. I might have worse blood 
in my veins.” 

“ Of course you ought to be glad of this; 
but what started you off on such a queer 
track at this late day ? Go and talk now to 
Sara Wells, as I told you.” 

“ I am very well contented.” 

“ I am not. I want to go and plan for a 
skating-match with the others. Your room- 
mate has promised to teach me some marvel 
lous performances on the ice.” 

Billy retreated immediately, and let her 
seek the “ others.” He would not have 
obeyed her orders, however, had not Sara 
Wells made a little effort to come near and 
talk to him. She was indeed a thoroughly 
“ nice ” girl, and Billy forgot he could not 
“ amuse ” her. They were before long as 
animated as possible over a subject which 
Stan Ellery somewhat later discovered to be 
geometry, and great was his laughter. He 


205 


At the Red Cottage . 

never talked mathematics at any girl, not he ! 

Stan always appeared to good advantage 
in a little company like this. Never troubled 
with bashfulness, he was free to talk with 
anybody or with everybody, individually and 
collectively. He was as dutiful as a son in 
his politeness to his aunt, while avoiding — 
when he could do so easily — his uncle. Stan 
was now his own master; but he chose to 
treat Mr. Ellery with the same old deference 
and outward respect. He never intended to 
forfeit any one’s good opinion if he could re- 
tain it by such easy methods as smiles, bows 
and fair words. He was intemperate, he 
gambled, he had low associations ; but he 
knew how to be a pleasant hypocrite, for he 
had learned the art early. 

As he stood talking with Billy, his uncle 
was silently watching him. Young as he 
was, his face seemed to the older man to 
wear already the marks of drunkenness and 
sensuality. From studying Stan, he turned at 


206 How Billy went Up in the World. 

last to Billy ; and thinking of his sturdy strug- 
gles toward an honorable manhood, the far- 
mer said to himself: “ It passes my compre- 
hension. Stan came of a pure ancestry. 
H is earliest associations were refined and 
elevating. He has wealth, education and 
good manners ; yet his instincts all seem de- 
praved. Billy, on the contrary, comes out 
of vileness, and is perpetually working up 
toward the best things he learns of in life 
and principle.” 

Mr. Ellery’s reflections were here cut short 
by the breaking up of the festivities. The 
sleigh-load of young people departed noisily. 
Prissy and Silas shook hands with each 
guest, and received their parting congratu- 
lations. Billy lingered with the last, to give 
the bride a modest little present he had 
brought her, and had not wished displayed. 
He also slipped into granny’s hand a small 
gift, which she smilingly accepted. It was 
an amiable whim of Billy to provide her with 


At the Red Cottage. 


207 


a purse and to keep little sums of money 
in it. He liked to have her feel so “ able 
to do anything,” as she seemed to think her- 
self when handling it. There was nothing 
about Billy that Stan Ellery found so “soft,” 
as this : Billy’s love for a “silly old grand- 
mother, and not his own at that.” Perhaps 
a third person might have discovered the 
nature of the difference between the young 
men, by reflecting on this softness in the 
rougher mannered one, and the inability to 
understand it in the one whose bearing was 
so gracious. 


CHAPTER XII. 


SNARED AND STRUGGLING. 


OCTOR HIGBEE approved of Billy. 



He did not have to hear from the 
lady of the house that he flirted with the 
cook, or made himself in any way obnox- 
ious. He “ minded his business, and was 
not a fool therefore the old man, having 
arrived at this conclusion, frequently gave 
him good advice, and interested himself in 
his aims and pursuits. 

One day, as Billy was about leaving the 
office, he detained him by remarking : 
“ You know Stan Ellery well, I suppose?” 

“ Not so much of him as you may think. 
I lived with his uncle while Stan was at the 
farm ; lately I see him occasionally.” 


Snared and Struggling. 209 

“He is going to the old boy,” said the doc- 
tor calmly, uncorking a vial and touching his 
tongue to its contents. The process being 
a satisfactory test, judging from the grimace 
he made, he calmly continued : “ He’s go- 

ing straight to the old boy —but he is going 
slowly. He started early, and he will be 
long enough on the way to rope in and ruin 
a dozen' better fellows. He’ll drink, and 
stand it for years ; he’ll gamble and win as a 
rule. He loves himself better than anybody 
else and isn’t going to do anything desperate, 
openly disgraceful. He’s fairly off for brains, 
and as for trickery and assurance, — well, if 
he escapes Congress it will be ah lost a mir- 
acle ! You wonder how an ole chap like 
me knows so much about a young one, don’t 
you ? Perhaps I should admire him if I did 
not happen to be a doctor. He has drop- 
ped in here a few times, once with a sprain- 
ed wrist, once with a sore throat ; has chatted 
a little, asked no amount of advice, given me 

14 


2io How Billy went Up in the World. 

no confidence, but I’ve read him through and 
through. I don’t have to look at a body’s 
stomach to tell that it is disordered — or his 
conscience, either.” 

If Billy could have proved the untruthful - 
ness of any one statement made by the old 
doctor he would not have been silent ; as it 
was, he held his peace for a while before he 
remarked : “ I haven’t any influence over 
him. He is older and better educated than 
I am. He has always treated me well, but I 
have no doubt he looks down on me as being 
greatly his inferior. It is perfectly natural 
that he should do so.” 

“ Maybe. Oh, I had no idea of setting 
you on Stan Ellery’s track. If there’s any 
influence going, he’ll be the one to exert it, 
and that brings me to the point. Ned Fen- 
ton is your room-mate, isn’t he?” 

“Yes, sir,” returned Billy, a little anxious- 
ly : for as an outgrowth of their life together 
he was becoming much attached to Ned. 


Snared and Struggling. 2 1 1 

“ I’ve known Ned Fenton ever since he 
used to sit in his fathers study and play at ser- 
mon writing. He is a fine, strong fellow, 
with a quick brain, not powerful ; he is sensi- 
tive, seems a little lazy now, but he will be 
terribly excitable or morbidly melancholy if 
his mind or body ever got over- wrought. I 
wish Stan Ellery would let him alone.” 

“ I don’t believe he has a very great deal 
to do with Ned.” 

“ Would you know it if he did have ? You 
are busy, and are seldom in your room until ten 
or eleven at night. I’ve seen them together 
constantly lately, and in fact more or less in 
one another’s company for a year.” 

“ Ned seldom talks* of him.” 

“ Stan might not care to have him talk of 
their doings to you, who visit at the Ellery 
farm so often.” 

“Ned does not seem deceitful.” 

“ He is not, but he is secretive and re- 
served. He likes you and wants your good 


2 1 2 How Billy went Up in the World. 

opinion ; he would not lie to you, perhaps, 
but he will show you his better side. How 
does he keep up his studies ?” 

“Fairly well,” said Billy, who, even as he 
replied, feared his qualified “ well ” was not 
quite as near the truth as “ not at all well ” 
would have been. 

“ Nevertheless, he is on the down grade, 
and I want you to see if he can’t be brought 
to know it in time. He has got a grand lit- 
tle mother who expects he is going to make 
her proud and happy all the days of her life. 
Just you corner him some day, and talk to 
him like a Dutch uncle. I’ve had my eye on 
him this long time ; but he knows it, and I 
can’t catch him. When I do he’ll get a shak- 
ing up. That will be for only once, however. 
What you can do is to watch and work 
right along, now while you are together. O 
thunder ! If there isn’t that plaster that ought 
to have been on Jerusha Peters’ back twenty- 
four hours ago! Take it to her, and run 


Snared and Struggling. 213 

when she gets it, or she will scold a blue 
streak as long as you will stand and listen.” 

Billy did as he was bidden, revolving in 
his mind the doctors words in regard to Ned. 
He recalled little things that now seemed 
to have some significance. Several times 
Ned had been away all night, when Billy 
had supposed he was at home. 

The rules regulating the life of the “upper 
story boys,” were very few, and not stringent. 
They must be in the building at school 
hours ; must behave when there; must come 
home at a certain hour at night, if they came 
at all. It was a common occurrence for one 
to go home, if his home was near town, and 
to remain there over night. Billy had some- 
times wondered why Ned was always irrita- 
ble, moody, and half sick, after his visits, or 
what he supposed were such ; at least, it had 
been so with him for many months. There 
had been a time when he used to tell Billy 
what he had done, whom he had seen, or 


2 1 4 How Billy went Up in the World. 

what had happened at the old homestead. 
He rarely did this now-a-days; yet when he 
had undeniably been home for a visit, he 
brought back some tangible proof of it, and 
was not cross or moody. He had become a 
great beer drinker, and this he admitted 
frankly, turning off with a jest, Billy’s fre- 
quent comments on the habit. About mid- 
winter, he had declared that the pastor of 
the First Church, of which he was a member, 
was dull and behind the times. From ran- 
dom remarks on the subject, Billy had sup- 
posed he was attending church elsewhere ; but 
this supposition might be without foundation. 

For several days after Dr. Higbee had 
talked with him, Billy was not in his room at 
the same time with Ned ; but one evening, 
about ten o’clock, the two found themselves 
together. Each had lessons to prepare, and 
so studied in silence for a while ; then Billy, 
finishing his task, looked np to see Ned 
absorbed in gloomy thought. 


215 


Snared and Struggling. 

“ I say, Knox !” he exclaimed, abruptly, 
“ relatives are great blessings, no doubt ; but, 
in some respects, a chap like you, who is 
all there is of the family, is to be congratu- 
lated. You have no anxious friends to over- 
rate your ability, and to be tremendously 
disappointed if you fizzle all out. That’s the 
contrariety of fortune, though ; you, who have 
no doting aunts, or generous old grand- 
father, or blessed good mother — you will 
improve each shining hour, and make an out- 
and-out success of yourself.” 

“Are you making out your programme 
for a * fizzle ?’ ” 

“ I am not making out any programme at 
all ; others have done it, and that is the 
bother. The fizzle will be accomplished 
without preparation.” 

“ What do you mean ?” 

“ My mother expects me to be a minister. 
Think of it !” 

Ned gave a long, low laugh, which was 


216 How Billy went Up in the World. 

rather scornful than merry. As Billy said 
nothing, 'he added: “When I was a little 
fellow I had a sort of juvenile piety — minis- 
ters’ children often have it early and recover 
— I talked about being like my father, and 
that settled the matter of my future.” 

“ Have you lost all your religion ?” 

“ Did you ever see any in my possession?” 

No hardened or wholly indifferent person 
ever spoke so bitterly of himself as did Ned 
then, in tone if not in words. Billy pushed 
away his books, and coming near, said, 
warmly : 

“ If you had paraded your religion I 
should not have believed much in you. The 
main thing with me was whether you acted 
from good principles.” 

“ My principles are excellent ; my practice 
is variegated — highly so.” 

Billy flung his arm about Ned’s shoulders, 
and giving him a friendly shake, asked sym- 
pathetically : “What are you about now-a- 


Snared and, S truer?! in?. 217 

days? I may not be a ‘ doting’ friend, but I 
like you. I want to know why you think 
you may be a fizzle ?” 

“ I shall not be ready for college — at least 
to enter as I expected. I have got into 
debt ; not very badly, but for a fellow in the 
Academy it will be considered useless, and 
altogether bad.” - 

“ What sort of debt ?” 

“ Oh, I borrowed money once or twice of 
Stan Ellery, and once or twice of a friend of 
his — a mean scalawag he is, too.. I lost it 
all, of course.” 

“ Gambling ?” 

“ Well, it amounted to that, I suppose. 
The fact is, Knox, I have been going it 
pretty fast this winter. I have only myself 
to blame. I wanted to try a few things; but 
if Stan Ellery had not stuck to me, I might 
have slackened up somewhat.” 

‘‘Shake free from him, Ned ! Do it once 
and for all, and he’ll let you alone. I know 


2 1 8 How Billy went Up in the World. 

Stan ; he will drag you into the mire, then 
wade through and out, leaving you to sink, 
or take care of yourself/’ 

“ He wallows in some ditches I never 
stepped into yet,” returned Ned, emphati- 
cally. 

“Very likely,” assented Billy, adding: 
“ but surely, you can easily give him up.” 

“ I might — yes — but what if there was 
something else I cbuld not easily give up?” 

There was no reason that Billy should 
think of Nan, or any sense in supposing that 
Ned was thinking of her ; but it was with a 
sudden relief that Billy heard his companion 
say : 

“You don’t approve of my drinking beer 
so often 

“ No, it is a useless habit. I don’t like to 
think you are so fond of it, and I don’t be- 
lieve that you need it.” 

“ I am fond of it, but I will tell you what I 
like better,” said Ned, grimly ; and in the 


Snared and Struggling . 219 

lamplight, his face suddenly flushed with 
shame. Some friendly instinct made Billy 
whisper, as he hesitated : 

“ You can trust me, old fellow !” 

“Well, I like brandy — whiskey — rum, or 
anything of that sort, better than beer ! I 
would like a drink this very minute. I knew 
you would look horrified, but it is the simple 
truth. A drinking man disgusts me ; the 
name of drunkard sounds as ugly as ever — 
but I have got the love of drink in me. 
What do you think of that, for a boy not yet 
in college, and a future minister !” 

“ I think it is bad enough ; but because 
you are a boy, and know the danger, the 
mischief can be stopped in time. You can 
cut yourself off from outside temptations 
easily enough, can’t you ?” 

“ Perhaps,” said Ned, moodily. 

“ The hankering for stimulant you must 

fight.” 

“ I ought to, but I shall not.” 


220 How Billy went Up in the World. 

“ Haven’t you any pluck ?” cried Billy, with 
sudden vehemence. 

“ No — not much on such lines. I could 
knock even you down, it may be, if I was 
pretty mad ; but I always do what I want to 
do, no matter how often I resolve not to give 
way. I am morally weak, and I know it.” 

“ But don’t you realize that you must take 
yourself in hand at once, Ned ?” 

“ I realize I won’t — or can’t — or shall not.” 

There was something morbid in this moral 
languor of a fellow so gifted intellectually, 
and so well instructed spiritually. Billy’s 
bolder, braver nature was stirred to arouse 
the other one to resolution, to action ; but 
what appeal should he make that could avail? 
Fenton was, in truth, miserably self-indul- 
gent. 

“ Ned, can’t you, by one mighty effort, 
will to do right ?” 

“Yes, and then, by many un-willings, do 
wrong.” 


22 1 


Snared and Struggling. 

“ But you will wreck your own boat before 
it is fairly launched.” 

“ I know it.” 

The young fellow sat bent, his face be- 
tween his hands ; while Billy, too excited to 
keep quiet any longer, strode up and down 
the room. By-and-by the latter’s steps 
grew slower, and he halted in deep thought ; 
then again he came near to his companion, 
and speaking with visible effort, said : 

“ Last September, Ned, I began to pray, 
and now I believe in prayer. 1 accepted as 
true, to and for me, what I had always been 
told : that God for Christ’s sake would for- 
give sins — that in life, my life, I could have 
help from heaven. I believe it all, for I have 
prayed, and my prayers have had answers. 
Now, the Bible plainly says God will give us 
help, strength, or wisdom, to the uttermost, 
if we are in dead earnest about wanting and 
seeking. I never yet have had a great 
struggle or a great temptation — at least, not 


222 How Billy went Up in the World. 

any like this that has come on you ; and so I 
can’t tell you what I have learned by experi- 
ence — but Christians do say, Ned, they can 
always conquer, through Christ that strength- 
ens them. Doesn’t your own mother say 
that ?’’ 

“ My mother would die if she knew me as 
I really am — she calls me her ‘ good son,’ ” 
said Ned, the big tears rushing to his eyes. 
He was a tender-hearted boy, after all, and 
Billy’s previous words had touched him 
deeply. He knew that when he himself was 
studying his Bible on his father’s knee, Billy 
must have been a homeless, fatherless waif. 
The older Billy had always seemed to him 
like an honest young giant ; strong, clean- 
tongued, but without much sentiment of any 
sort. To-night, he revealed himself to Ned 
as tender and reverent, as having entered a 
purer, better atmosphere. Won by his 
sympathy, Ned now confessed, as he might 
have done tg a brother, all the error and 


Snared and Struggling. 223 

waywardness of the past months. It was 
all worse than Billy’s worst fancies ; but the 
talk did them both good, if for no other rea- 
son than that it renewed Ned’s waning faith 
in another’s rectitude ; and it awakened in 
Billy a hearty, brotherly affection, as well as 
a half fear, half gladness, that, in a sense, he 
was his brother’s keeper. From that time 
on, during the winter, he tried, by every 
means in his power, to stimulate Ned’s 
healthier impulses, and to shield him from 
temptations. He prevailed on him to renew 
his former habits of thorough study, and 
urged his going home when he would not 
otherwise have gone. He was sure Ned 
would not seek out Stan Ellery, and, because 
he never encountered the latter in their room 
after that night’s conversation, he trusted 
that the old spell was broken. 

It had been Billy’s habit to spend some 
part of his time between each Friday 
night and Monday morning, at the farm. 


224 How Billy went Up in the World \ 

Mrs. Ellery urged this on him, and he 
was only too happy to avail himself of her 
hospitality. Nan was usually at home, and 
this fact was no drawback to his enjoyment. 
The young girl snubbed him frequently, and 
criticised him freely ; but then again, she 
talked with him, long at a time, of her 
school, her friends, and the thousand and one 
interests of her bright young life. 

About the time of Prissy’s wedding, Nan 
began to treat Billy rather coolly, or, at 
least, with a new formality and reserve. He 
noticed it at once, and felt it keenly ; puz- 
zling much whether it meant dislike, disdain, 
or a cold-blooded recognition of the fact, that 
their social relations must, for the future, be 
re-arranged, and that on a new basis. He 
was inclined to think this last was the true 
explanation. 

Ned Fenton, when once introduced by 
Stan Ellery mto the little circle of Nan’s 
school-friends, had become very popular. 


% Snared and Struggling. 225 

Nan herself often spoke of him as being so 
“ witty, so entertaining in conversation, and 
such a gentleman by birth and breeding.” 
Billy always heartily agreed with her, while 
he winced inwardly at something he fancied 
implied in this last phrase. Would Nan 
ever have any great approval for a man 
totally unlike Ned; not graceful, not white- 
handed, not always sure of the neatest way 
of doing, saying, and handling everything — 
only a fellow with a clear head, a big 
heart, and a conscience kept in good re- 
pair? 

After the interview with Ned Fenton, 
Billy spent more of his spare time with him, 
and several Saturdays, when he would other- 
wise have been at the farm, he attached him- 
self to Fenton. Once Fenton went with him 
to the Ellerys for the day ; a number of 
young people having been invited to the 
farm for a kind of informal merry-making. 
Ned had been doing remarkably well in his 
15 


226 How Billy went Up in the World. 

studies for a few weeks, and was in unusually 
high spirits. 

“ Any mother must be proud of that 
bright, handsome fellow,” said Mrs. Ellery 
to Billy, during the day. 

“ And he is as good as he looks,” exclaimed 
Sara Wells, adding: “he is going to be a 
minister, I hear.” 

“ Is he, Billy?” asked Nan, musingly. 

“ His people have hoped he would be one; 
that is a long way ahead,” was the reply. 

“ He is wise. If I were a young man I 
would choose a profession,” was Nan’s com- 
ment. 

As Ned joined them that moment, and 
Billy saw the cordial hearing Nan gave to 
his every gay remark, he felt a strange dis- 
comfort. He said to himself that they were 
all three of them too young for ‘ nonsense.’ 
Some day he, Billy Knox, might be thinking 
of a wife ; just now, what was it to him that 
Nan Ellery was as fresh and sweet as a crisp 


Snared and Struggling. 227 

pink rose-bud ? But why had not Ned Fen- 
ton just as good a right to think this of her, 
as he had to consider it an original dis- 
covery ? Not once did it occur to him that 
he had it in his power to injure Ned in the 
eyes of any who thought him better and 
stronger than Billy knew him to be. Later 
in the day, when the party came to an end, 
Ned and Billy rode back to town together. 
On the way Ned, who had been whistling 
softly to himself, forgetful of his companion, 
stopped, saying: “Miss Ellery is a charm- 
ing girl — as soft and as frolicsome as a kit- 
ten, and as able to scratch you, in the pretti- 
est fashion possible, if she feels like it.” 

Billy said something not intelligible. 

“ I have seen a great deal of her at the 
skating rink, and at one place and another, 
this winter. Stan has let me do his duty as 
her escort, when he had what he considered 
more exciting amusement. She is quite ex- 
citing enough for me.” 


228 How Billy went Up in the World. 

Billy had nothing to say, whatever he 
might have thought, so Ned went on : “ If I 
were what I ought to be — a model young 
student — I would surely follow her up until 
she promised to wait and marry me some 
fine day ; but, you see, I can’t count on my- 
self.” 

“ Then you had better let her alone.” 

“ I know it, but I like her, and it pleases 
me to show her I do.” 

“You ought to be ashamed of yourself,” 
said Billy, hotly. 

“T suppose so — on very many accounts.” 

“Her parents consider her a child.” 

“ Well, she is not ; but I don’t intend to 
ask for her so long as I am not of age, and 
my grandfather is paying my school-bills, 
and nobody knows who is going to pay 
some others.” 

“ You are not good enough now, for Nan 
Ellery, and I don’t think you ever will be,” 
persisted Billy. 


Snared and Struggling. 229 

“Well, you are honest, and maybe you 
are right,” returned Ned, lazily ; adding, 
with more animation, in a moment: “She 
likes me pretty well, anyway.” 

The rest of the ride was taken in silence. 

The winter went swiftly by, then the Eas- 
ter holidays came and passed. Billy had 
made excellent progress in his studies ; had 
become a great favorite with scholars, and 
teachers, and even with Doctor Higbee. 
He had found time, over and above his daily 
tasks, to attend a few lectures on popular 
science and literature, and he had begun a 
systematic course of reading. 

During the spring holidays Billy was at 
work on the farm, and so saw nothing of 
Ned ; but when he came back to school, he 
guessed by the sullen, uncommunicative 
manner of his room-mate, that his vacation 
had been worse than unprofitable. He knew 
nothing for certain, however, until he one day 
encountered Uncle Zeph in a deserted class- 


230 How Billy went Up in the World, 

room. The old man drew him into a corner, 
and whispered : 

“ I did something the other night that I 
can’t do again — no, never ! I did it partly 
out o’ liking for you, and partly because the 
other fellow is as civil and as nice a one, in 
the main, as ever I saw in the ’Cademy.” 

“ What do you mean ?” 

“ I mean Fenton,” returned Uncle Zeph, 
solemnly shaking his head. “ I’ll tell you 
how ’twas. The boys all know that the 
last thing at night I see to the fires. Well, 
the last day of school I run ’em sort of low, 
but the fire in the biggest heater didn’t go 
out until next day ; so I let it be, locked up, 
and went way until night ; then I came 
around to see if everything was right, and 
no danger nor nothing. It was after eleven 
before I started for home ; and just as I got 
to the front hall, ready to leave the building, 
there came the awfulest banging on the 
door, and then something tumbled against 


Snared and Struggling. 231 

it. I was kind o’ scart, but I opened and 
peeked out. As I did it a feller took to his 
heels down the gravel walk, leaving another 
one in a heap on the* top door step. If 
you’ll believe it, there was Ned Fenton, 
drunk ! Such a thing never happened in 
these here halls of learning ne — ver ! I 
couldn’t seem to believe my own eyes. He 
could stagger up-stairs leaning on me, and 
he did, tho’ we took a pretty considerable 
time, and I preached temperance lectures on 
every landing, all out o’ breath as I natu- 
rally was, and he only sense enough to take 
me for a prayer-meeting, and a saying 
‘Amen,’ to every blessed sentence. I got 
him onto his bed, and I dar’n’t leave him for 
the night, to go to fooling, maybe, later, 
with matches or a kerosene lamp ; so I roll- 
ed myself into your place and dozed. He 
slept like a log ; but when morning come 
you never saw a fellow madder at himself or 
meeker to hear reason. He begged me 


232 How Billy went Up in the World. 

never to tell a human being unless it was 
you. He didn’t excuse himself or tell whose 
legs them was that I saw clipping down the 
front walk, but I knew them for Stan 
Ellery’s, all the same.” 

“Now, aint this here awful? It never 
must happen again ! What’d the trustees 
say to me for helping drunken fellers to bed ! 
The reputation of the institution can’t suf- 
fer in that sort of a way.” 

Billy was not so anxious about the ‘ insti- 
tution,’ as he was shocked at Ned’s beha- 
vior. Uncle Zeph, perceiving this in a mo- 
ment, added: “Yes, you may well groan; 
and that wasn’t the worst of it, either. Ned 
wanted to stay in his room until noon, he 
said. His head ached and he had some 
things to do ; so I left him and came back to 
lock up. I was climbing the stairs when I 
heard light steps behind me, and the softest 
voiced, mildest faced lady, with a worried 
little tremble in her way of speaking. She 


Snared and Struggling. 233 

says to me : ‘ Is my son in his room ? I 
mean Ned Fenton.’ 

“ I says : ‘ He was, but now perhaps he’s 
gone.’ 

“ ‘ He staid here all night last night, didn’t 
he ?’ 

“Yes marm, but I heard him say he was 
going home to-day.’ 

“ ‘ Certainly he is — the foolish fellow, to 
stay here poring over his books. I pre- 
sume,’ says she, ‘ that he was so interested in 
some study he never remembered it was 
vacation. His father was just about as 
absorbed when he was over his sermons.’ 

“Well, when we got up, sure enough, Ned 
was there, washed and tidied up ready to go. 
They left the door wide open and I could 
hear her kind of lovingly scolding him for 
studying too hard, and telling how late she 
sat up for him the night before. She went 
looking all about his room, laughing at the 
contrivances, and showing just how proud she 


234 How Billy went Up in the World. 

was of him. She said she was glad to hear 
from one of the teachers what a steady fel- 
ler you was, for she didn’t want her boy 
daily exposed to evil companionship. Ned 
spoke up, and says he : 4 Billy Knox is worth 
a dozen chaps like me.’ She only laughed 
at that, like a young girl.” 

“ It is a wretched business,” said Billy, sad- 
ly, “and what to do I cannot tell. He 
must stop or be stopped, but how ? ” 

There was a loud call in the hall for Un- 
cle Zeph, who departed, first exclaiming: 
“You may well ask ‘ how ! ’ ” 

That night Billy had one more long talk 
with Ned, who promised to do anything and 
everything in the way of thorough reform. 
He was humble arid sorry, ashamed and mel- 
ancholy ; but Billy rightly judged that, pliable 
as he was in his hands, just so easily turned 
would he be in Stan Ellery’s. Anew he re- 
solved to watch over him for good ; but what 
sort of a manhood would that be which must 


Snared and Struggling. 235 

be kept from evil by an outside human 
power, because before evil it would surely 
fall? 

The spring went by, and there remained 
only three more weeks of the last term. Ned 
had applied himself to study for a number of 
months, and worked until late into each night. 
He made up so many of his neglected back 
tasks, that it seemed possible for him to enter 
college in the class he had earlier meant to 
join ; at least it would be possible, after some 
work done in vacation. 


CHAPTER XIII. 


A STRUGGLE ENDED. 

NE Friday night Ned Fenton insisted 



^-^on taking Billy home with him for a 
brief visit. The fine old homestead belong- 
ing to his mothers father was only five miles 
from the town, and Billy had accepted his 
invitation with satisfaction and a desire to 
see a place of which he had heard consider- 
able. It was a larger house and more ele- 
gant than Billy had supposed it to be. Mrs. 
Fenton was very polite, in a hearty, sincere 
way, and old Mr. Holmes seemed so genial 
he soon felt at ease. The pictures of foreign 
buildings, the fine library, and the beautiful 
conservatory, were of great interest to him 
Ned could not have treated a most distin- 


A Struggle Ended. 


2 37 


guished guest with more attention, while the 
fact that Ned liked him was reason enough 
for his securing the good opinion of every 
person about the establishment. This visit 
has no particular significance as a part of 
our story, but one little thing pleased Billy 
at the time, and was never afterwards for- 
gotten. 

In the evening, by bright moonlight, they 
strolled out for a walk about the grounds. 

“ Grandfather approves of you,” said Ned, 
lightly : “ he never shows his coat-of-arms 
to people he does not care to please as well 
as to instruct ; for of course it is edifying to 
you to learn our pedigree.” 

“Well, a coat-of-arms is a fine thing, 
though I have seen the time a coat for my 
arms was much more to the purpose. Your 
grandfather is a splendid looking old gentle- 
man.” 

“ Yes, he has backbone literally and figur- 
atively. If he knew the flabbiness of his 


238 How Billy went Up in the World. 

grandson, he would appoint you his guard- 
ian, from this time forth. What am I going 
to do without you, Billy ? In a few days 
you go one way, and I another.” 

“ I have done you no real good. If your 
backbone were any stiffer for having known 
me, that would be something.” 

“You have given me a good example of 
pluck and principle. I have resolved to try 
and stand on my own feet — to ‘ pray de- 
voutly and hammer away stoutly,’ as Sancho 
Panza says.” 

“ Really to do both ?” asked Billy. 

“Yes — both,” returned Ned, soberly. 

He had never before pronlised to pray ; 
neither had he ever talked with Billy of 
religious matters. He always listened to 
any word on them from him respectfully, al- 
though he knew all that any one could say ; 
so to-night, Billy only grasped his hand a 
moment, then they wandered on in the soft 
evening light. 


A Struggle Ended . 239 

The whole family urged Billy to stay over 
Sunday ; but he declined, wishing to spend 
that time at the farm. He was back at the 
Academy promptly Monday morning; but 
not so was Fenton, whose non-appearance 
during the day caused his room-mate some 
anxiety. In the early evening he came ; his 
face was flushed, and his eyes very red. He 
smiled faintly at Billy’s first unguarded look 
of suspicion, and sinking into a chair, said : 

“ I came straight from home, and I have 
not eaten a mouthful to-day ; but I have 
drunk unlimited ice water and lemonade. 
My head aches outrageously. I walked into 
town, hoping I should feel better, but I don’t.” 

“You might as well have staid home un- 
til morning. Perhaps a night’s sleep would 
have brought you out all right” said Billy, 
who was about going to Doctor Higbee’s 
office. “ Don’t go to digging into Greek,” 
he called back, as he went down the hall A 
dismal groan was Ned’s only reply. 


240 How Billy went Up in the World. 

No books were on the table^ when Billy 
returned, and Ned was in bed, but not 
asleep. He said he had a chill after Billy 
left him, but now he had, evidently, much 
fever. Neither of them knew anything 
about sickness ; but when Billy saw how 
much redder Ned’s face had become, and 
how bright were his eyes, he proposed to 
him that he should return and get Doctor 
Higbee. To this Ned would not hear ; and 
so, after rendering his room-mate such small 
services as he permitted, Billy fell asleep and, 
after a hard day’s work, slept soundly. It 
was six o’clock in the morning when he 
awakened. The sunshine filled the room, 
and his first thought was that the merry warble 
of bird-song had startled him out of sleep; but 
no— Ned, erect in bed, was violently gestic- 
ulating and talking rapidly of his mother and 
a pyramid. It must be lifted off her head, 
but nobody would help him do it. Then, as 
Billy stared at him in dismay, he shouted 


A Struggle Ended ’ 241 

with laughter, and would have leaped toward 
the door. 

Billy, with a struggle, urged him back 
into bed, and pounded loudly with his fists 
on the wall, calling to the inmates of the 
next room for help. For a moment or two, 
their neighbors supposed them engaged in 
some riotous sport; but at last Billy made 
them understand he needed them. As soon 
as they came in, they agreed that Billy 
should go at once for the doctor, while they 
remained with Fenton. Accordingly, he 
hurried over to the office, and knowing Doc- 
tor Higbee’s peculiarities, would not return 
without him. 

“ Been off on a spree, I presume,” grum- 
bled the old fellow, stumbling up the worn 
staircases. 

“ No, he has not. I know how he has 
spent every hour for weeks,” returned Billy, 
following the doctor into the room. Ned 
paid no attention to the latter, save once to cry 
1 6 


242 How Billy went Up in the World. 

out, as with pain, when he laid his hand over 
his scalp. The doctor examined him care- 
fully, and Billy, who, by this time, was well 
able to read the old man’s face, and guess at 
his opinions, understood that Ned’s case was 
a serious one, even in this early stage. 
When the doctor spoke at last, he turned to 
Billy, saying: 

“ His pulse is a hundred and sixty.” 

“ Can he be moved — be taken home?” 

“ No ! You must send for his mother, 
and she must have a strong man nurse.” 

“ Can’t I do what a man would be needed 
for?” asked Billy. 

“With any of us fellows to take our turn?” 
added the others, in a breath. 

“ Well, to begin with, you can try ; but 
you must keep this part of the building per- 
fectly quiet. His hearing will be morbidly 
acute, and loud noises will be agony to him ; 
slight ones almost unendurable.” 


243 


A Struggle Ended. 

“ What ails him, doctor ?” Billy ventured 
to inquire. 

“ An acute cerebral trouble. You must 
not leave him a moment; he will have all 
sorts of hallucinations, and you must keep 
him from injuring himself until the delirium 
becomes more subdued, as it will, with the 
advance of the disease.” 

“ How long will the disease run ?” 

“ Perhaps two weeks, or three — perhaps 
not half as long. Now, some of you fellows 
go get things into shape. Clear out these 
upper rooms, anybody who will make the 
least noise. There must be no tramping 
through halls, no whispering outside the 
doors. You might as well know that Fen- 
ton will have a hard fight for life.” 

Morton and Bridges, the two friends, went 
out softly, leaving Billy with the doctor, who 
turned then to him, and asked : 

“ Has he been drinking?” 

“ Not for two or three months ; but he has 


244 How Billy went Up in the World . 

studied very closely, by night and day, to 
make up for what he lost in the winter. 

“ Well, he is in for it now ; but keep his 
mother cool, if you can. She will naturally 
worry to have him moved home ; but it can’t 
be done, or thought of. Get her here at 
once.” 

It was a rare thing for the doctor to stay 
with his patients, but he remained with Ned 
half the forenoon, and until his mother came; 
then, when he went, it was to return at reg- 
ular and not infrequent intervals. 

Such strange nights and days those were 
that followed. By Billy only, would Ned let 
himself be controlled, and that settled the 
question of a nurse. The other boys were 
as kind as brothers could have been. Mrs. 
Fenton was not a woman who had to be 
“ kept cool,” for, from the moment she en- 
tered the room, with her face colorless from 
fear, she was as calm and self-restrained as 
if she had known all Ned’s danger. 


A Struggle Ended. 


245 


At first Ned talked incessantly of Greek, 
of Latin, of skating, of terrible dangers he 
could not escape ; sometimes confusing the 
struggle against evil, with literal fights 
against present enemies ; often repeating the 
very phrases used in some past discussion, 
which Billy well remembered. Gradually 
the wildness of his delirium passed away, 
and he would lie for short intervals quiet, in 
the dim light of the silent room. He recog- 
nized his mother and smiled ; to Billy, he 
murmured short sentences that seemed not 
without connection and thought. That last 
moonlight Saturday night seemed constantly 
in his mind, and always associated with some 
spiritual exercise — some “ prayer,” some 
“help to the uttermost, you know you said,” 
he would whisper to Billy. 

Doctor Higbee brought all his skill to 
bear on the case, in a way that more than 
once recalled to Billy, Uncle Zeph’s account 
of his peculiarities ; but he was so quiet, he 


246 How Billy went Up in the World. 

blustered so little, and joked so seldom, that 
his gravity was ominous. 

There came a time when Ned, to his 
mother’s intense relief, fell into profound 
slumbers, and, on awakening, was apparently 
perfectly aware of their presence — able to 
listen to them and reply. She assured Billy 
that this sleep must certainly work for his 
recovery ; but it began to seem to the other 
watchers much like stupor. One midnight 
they heard him mutter : 

“ I pray — I pray !” 

‘‘For what, my son?” said his mother, 
bending low over the bed. He waited be- 
fore he could get out slowly : “ If I should 

die — before I wake — my soul to take.” 

“ He is wandering a little, and remember- 
ing a child’s prayer,” she explained to Billy ; 
and then, at the latter’s urgent request, she 
went away for a brief rest. In the morning 
she said it seemed so good to have Ned 
quiet, but she did not see what Doctor Hig- 


A Struggle Ended . 247 

bee showed to Billy : the paralysis of the 
eyelids, the slow, irregular pulse, in short the 
coming on of complete insensibility. She 

waited for hours, expecting him to awake ; 
and at last the doctor had to tell her, as 
gently as he could, that all consciousness 
was gone, and almost all life from the boy 
who was her idol. Her grief was as the 
grief of all mothers with their dead; and 

to Billy it was infinitely touching. The 

little that he could do for her, he did, so ten- 
derly, that she trusted him to carry out all 
her wishes. 

No funeral could have been simpler or 
more solemn. The services were held in the 
great school-room, and two hundred school- 
mates followed with uncovered heads the 
coffin, carried down the long avenue, under 
the budding trees. It was all as unreal as 
a dream to one of them. He could shut out 
the sight of these black badges, and hear 
Ned’s voice in their sunny room as he sang 


248 How Billy went Up in the World. 

some gay college song, or he could see him 
with bent head, as he sat melancholy after 
some confession of wrong doing. He could 
not think of his body, cold and motionless — 
his soul gone away out of all earthly temp- 
tation, out of all struggle. The poor lad 
had truly struggled, and Billy was glad 
that he could remember tears and promises 
and prayers : for if he pitied and loved the 
erring boy, was not God more pitiful ? Per- 
haps it was in purest mercy God had sent 
the blow on this mother ; for it may be that 
death, not life, could best save her son. 
Sooner or later her heart might have been 
wrung by his weakness and backslidings ; 
now she would always keep him in her 
memory as in her loving ignorance she 
fancied him to have been. 

Billy wondered if it were wrong to be sin- 
cerely glad that very few people knew of 
poor Ned’s failings and follies, and that those 
few would be likely to guard their secret. 


A Struggle Ended. 249 

There was only one week more of the 
school term after Ned’s death ; a fact for 
which Billy was very grateful. He was 
overwrought, and needed rest, after a year 
of severe study and the recent drain on his 
sympathies. It rested him only to think of 
out-of-door work, of getting away from 
books and from the little upper room so full 
of sad associations. 

As he was packing his boxes the last day, 
a shadow darkened the threshold, and look- 
ing up, Billy saw Stan Ellery, as gracious 
and cheerful as ever. He flung himself into 
a chair, tossed a cigar-end out of the open 
window, and after a few careless remarks, 
exclaimed : “ Ned told me once that you 

knew he was in debt to me and to another 
fellow.” 

“Yes, I knew it; but see here, Stan 
Ellery, are you going to bring more trouble 
on his mother ? She is almost crushed by 
her loss, anyway, but you don’t know the 


250 How Billy went Up in the World . 

satisfaction it is to her to tell people what a 
good boy he was. Now, if you go and show 
up to her every miserable slip in this last 
year of his life, you make her utterly wretch- 
ed. You take away her comfort.” 

“ Oh, hold up, Billy ! Don’t fly off at a 
tangent. All I came in for was to tell you 
to keep your own mouth shut on this matter. 
I have settled with the other fellow, and nev- 
er expect my money back. Let his mother 
believe he was a newer edition of his father 
the parson. Ned was a good-hearted fellow 
as ever was.” 

“ I don’t know how long he would have 
been so if” — Billy said this much and stop- 
ped. What was the use of talking to Stan ? 

“If I had had much to do with him, you 
mean,” continued Stan himself. “ Oh, I 
didn’t hurt him. He had been held in too 
long, and when he once started he didn’t 
know when to stop. He cut me three 
months ago, and I did not follow him up. 


A Struggle Ended ’ 


251 


I say, Billy, arn’t you turning out rather more 
pious than one would expect from your ear- 
liest training ? ” 

“ Perhaps. How about your early train- 
ing, and your present going ? ” 

Stan gave a boisterous laugh, and made 
ready to leave him, saying: “Well, I am not 
such a Jew as you seemed to expect I would 
be in regard to these debts. Going over to 
the farm to-day ? Give my love to Nan, she 
is getting most mighty pretty. Ned was a 
liitle soft on her — don’t know the state of her 
heart. Good-bye, old chap.” 

Billy could not help wondering, as Stan 
went whistling down the old stairs, if he were 
acting out of generosity and kindness, or if 
it seemed to Stan as well not to bring to light 
his own share in Ned’s transactions. 

The books were all packed at last, all mov- 
able articles were sent away, and by night 
Billy was ready to leave forever the place in 
which he had learned much and experienced 


252 How Billy went Up in the World . 

more. As he stood in the door, looking 
back into the room, darkening with the night- 
fall, he remembered with a thrill his late 
friend saying: “In a few days you go one 
way and I another. ” 

Neds way had led him into eternity. 
Whither did his own steps turn ? He could 
not tell, but one thing he realized : his own 
boyhood was past — it was time that he 
should go out into the world and become a 
man among men. 


CHAPTER XIV. 


A NEW DEPARTURE, 



NE beautiful day in early spring, the 


^-^sun shone brightly in at the windows of 
what had once been Peters cottage ; but 
shiftless Peter never would have recognized 
his old home, save by the landscape around. 
Silas Barnard had already added a new 
kitchen, for Prissy was a famous housekeeper, 
and wanted plenty of room for all her cook- 
ing utensils and her domestic operations. 
How every pot and pan did shine to-day in 
the bright sunshine, while Prissy, her cheeks 
as red as ever, hovered over the fire, frying 
doughnuts. Si had added another room, and 
this last was a nursery. The arrival of the 
twins made such an apartment as necessary 


254 How Billy went Up in the World, 

as the new kitchen. Five years had come 
and gone since Silas took Prissy for better or 
for worse ; the twins were bouncing children, 
a boy and a girl, or Jack and Jill, as Si per- 
sisted in calling them. 

There was, moreover, a baby. It was a 
good baby, healthy and perfect in all its 
members, but a more grotesque little mortal 
never flourished. Prissy and Si thought it 
decidedly pretty ; but as it sat this day, cross- 
legged on the floor, howling lustily for the 
hot doughnuts Prissy would not bestow on it^ 
it looked like nothing but a Chinese idol. 
Well, as the sun shone and the baby 
screeched, and Prissy placidly warbled a 
hymn, the outer door opened and in walked 
William Knox. 

“ Where is Si, Prissy ? ” 

“ He will be in soon ; he drove over to 
Langham, but it is time he was home. ,, 

“ Well, I can wait a while for refresh- 
ments,” said the young man, laughing, as he 


A New Departure. 


255 


secured two big cakes from the pan by the 
stove, and biting one, added: “You can 
cook a few things, Prissy, can’t you ?” 

“Impudence! What did you seize the 
very hottest ones just from the fat for ? Si 
does that, too, instead of taking cool ones, 
which must be much more digestible.” 

“ Phew ! I can digest a cannon ball.” 

“ I believe you could. Why don’t you get 
married, Billy ? Then you would not have 
to come eating up your neighbors’ cakes; 
your wife would make them for you.” 

“That would not be so economical, by 
half,” replied Billy, sitting down near the 
“ idol,” whom he swooped up, perched on his 
knee, and silenced by filling its wide mouth 
with cake. Prissy, glad of the quiet, and 
unaware of the way it had been secured, 
went on talking : 

“ I declare, Billy, you are big enough to 
take care of a wife. I thought last Sunday, 
when you stood up to sing, you looked 


256 How Billy went Up in the World . 

exactly like Goliath in our illustrated family 
Bible.” 

“ Don’t you like big men ?” 

“ Yes, I do ! I wish Si was twice as large 
as he is ! I suppose a big fellow may be a 
scoundrel, but I always was of the opinion 
that, as a rule, he wouldn’t have so many 
meannesses as a little one. A regular giant 
might get mad and toss his wife out of the 
window, but he ain’t half so likely to count 
the potatoes she may cook for dinner, as if 
he were under weight. You see, Billy, the 
potato counter’s wife has to despise his stin- 
giness ; but the chances are the big chap’s 
wife will tell the neighbors she fell out that 
window, and she will forgive him before her 
bones are set.” 

“ Indeed ! Why, Prissy, how you make me 
realize my prospective privileges. But it is 
too bad Si counts the potatoes — and are they 
small potatoes, too ?” 

“ Aren’t you ashamed of yourself, Billy 


A New Departure. 


25 7 


Knox ! Si isn’t so very small, and I can tell 
you, his heart is almost as big as his body.” 

“ Isn’t that a little rough on his lungs, 
liver, and so forth ?” quoth Billy, grasping out 
for another cake. 

The hot lard began to scorch, and Prissy, 
taking it hastily off the fire, paid no more 
attention to her visitor for a while. He 
amused himself easily ; ate more cake, tum- 
bled the idol around in a sacrilegious way, 
told Prissy its head was going to be redder 
than ever his was, and its countenance by no 
means as handsome : finally he exclaimed : 

“ I have come to tell you and Si a secret.” 

“You are going to be married!” cried 
Prissy, turning square around and gazing at 
the young man, who colored a little as he 
returned : 

“ Can’t a woman conceive of any other 
sort of a secret ?” 

“ Of course she can ; but why don’t you 
be — be — looking out for a wife ?” 

17 


258 How Billy went Up in the World \ 

“ First, because I don’t know a girl whom 
I would marry, who would marry me.” — 
Billy paused a second, as if he would give 
Prissy a chance to deny that, if she could ; 
then he continued : “ Secondly, I could not 
support a wife yet, if I had one. I don’t 
mean this to be true a great many years, 
however.” 

For reasons best known to her shrewd 
self, it was particularly malicious just then, 
for Prissy to remark, with hypocritical sym- 
pathy : 

“Yes, get a good start first, and then find 
some nice, sensible poor girl, used to econ- 
omy, or to taking care of herself; then you 
will get on slowly and surely.” 

When she had turned away, Billy sug- 
gested with would-be carelessness : 

“ What if I didn’t happen to want a poor 
girl ?” 

“ Gracious me ! Would you marry a wo- 
man for her money ?” 


A New Departure . 


259 


“ No !” retorted Billy, savagely, and giv- 
ing the idol a start that nearly knocked it off 
its base. I wish the woman I want — I mean, 
I hope 

The idol howled outright, as no real idol, 
however heathenish, ever does howl ; and 
Prissy snatched it away from Billy, declaring 
that he poked it as if it were made of putty 
and had no feelings whatever. In the ex- 
citement of this episode the subject last con- 
sidered was allowed to drop, and the secret 
was forgotten until Si came home. 

In the years since we last saw Billy, he 
had remained with Mr. Ellery, until this, his 
twenty-second year. He had laid up several 
hundred dollars, but, better still, he had mas- 
tered every detail of farm work. Never was 
there a more steady-going, faithful worker 
about a farm than Silas Barnard ; but Mr. 
Ellery often smiled at the difference between 
Silas and Billy. The one was content to 
work with a tool handed down from his 


260 How Billy went Up in the World, 

grandfather; the other was progressive in 
the best sense of the word, applied to farm- 
ing. Billy studied papers devoted to agri- 
culture ; Silas pronounced them full of new-, 
fangled notions. 

Mr. Ellery had several times allowed Billy 
to try experiments, which, in the end, proved 
him to be decidedly clear-headed. He 
never undertook anything of importance 
without consulting Mr. Ellery ; he valued 
Silas’ assistance highly, but his advice, not 
at all. 

Silas did not return until nearly supper 
time. He had taken with him the twins, 
who came back so hungry they smelt the 
doughnuts at the gate, and began asking for 
them on the door-steps. Naturally there 
was not much time for conversation until 
supper was eaten and the juvenile element 
banished; then, while Prissy sat down to 
darn stockings, Silas and Billy chatted about 
various matters. At last Billy said : 


A New Departure . 


261 


“ Haywood has bought this next farm, 
Si.” 

“ I know it ; but he means to sell it again 
the first chance, I hear. I always wondered 
Ellery didn’t buy it. There isn’t a prettier 
farm in the county, and it lies so close to 
his.” 

“ He did not want all of it, and nobody 
has ever wanted to divide it.” 

“ Well, if I had the wherewith to take that 
land, I wouldn’t ask anything nicer,” re- 
turned Si. 

“ What would you say to my buying that 
farm?” asked Billy. 

He spoke lightly, but something in his 
tone made the other man look up and reply : 

“ I should say : good for you, Billy Knox ! 
But how could you do it ? Has some long- 
lost relative left you a fortune ?” 

Leaning forward on the table, the young 
man exclaimed : “ I came over on purpose 
to tell you my plans, for I really have had 


262 How Billy went Up in the World . 

an idea of taking that farm. It is high time 
I started out a little bolder, and entirely in- 
dependent of Mr. Ellery. Haywood is a 
capitalist, a straightforward, honest fellow, 
known to Mr. Ellery. He wanted him to 
add this farm to his, but he wouldn’t hear to 
that — didn’t want it. While the two were 
talking about the farm one day last month, 
it just occurred to me that I could do that — 
that is, buy the farm, even if I couldn’t pay 
all cash down. When I suggested the thing 
to Mr. Ellery, he approved of it heartily ; so 
nothing remained but to talk with Haywood, 
and come to an agreement. There is just 
one hundred acres, at fifty dollars an acre — 
and I have taken it.” 

Silas gave a prolonged whistle, and Prissy 
waved a half-darned stocking in the air, 
crying : 

“ So that is your secret, is it? A farm, 
not a wife — well, one will follow the other !” 

“We have talked over and settled every sin- 


263 


A New Departure. 

gle thing, Haywood and I,” continued Billy, 
talking faster, with pleasure at their enthusi- 
asm. “I paid five hundred dollars down. He 
dictates what crops, how many acres for mea- 
dow and pasture, how many are to be plowed 
and planted to corn, beans, and potatoes, and 
how many sown to oats and barley. We 
each furnish one-half the seed, and when the 
crops are marketed, the proceeds are to be 
equally divided.” 

“ How about live stock and tools ?” 

“ I have more than enough money in the 
bank to get all I want for a good start after 
my first payment. I only lack one thing.” 

“ What is that ?” 

“Si Barnard.” 

“What?” 

“ You. I must have you.” 

“ But what will Mr. Ellery say to that ?” 

“ He says ‘ yes/ We talked it over the 
first thing ; he says he has had your services 
a long time, and can get along now without 


264 How Billy went Up in the World, 

you, for he knows I will need you more. 
Another thing, I want Prissy to take me to 
board. I mean to set myself up as indepen- 
dently' as possible of my very best friends, so 
that they won't feel a bit of responsibility about 
me. I told Mr. Ellery this morning, that 
when once I was fairly started, I should not 
be running to him for help or advice, and if 
I did not, he must understand the reason 
why, and not imagine I was taking on airs.” 

“Well, the hull thing is downright sensi- 
ble,” said Silas; “ but it is kind of amazin', all 
the same, considerin’ it isn't so very long 
since you came over the fence, yourself, into 
that potato patch.” 

Billy laughed ; then, glancing at Prissy, 
he remarked : “ Did you ever count the 

potatoes a woman cooks for dinner ?” 

“ Billy !” began Prissy, indignantly ; but 
Silas placidly answered : 

“ No, never ! Won’t they cook an odd 
number ? They are an awful superstitious 


A New Departure. 265 

set — women are, generally speaking. How- 
somever, I have noticed one thing : Prissy 
knows how to pare a thin skin off a potater 
and not waste half. It comes of cutting neat 
as a dressmak ” — 

But Billy was shaking his finger at Mrs. 
Barnard, and saying : “ Poor Prissy ! If 

he’d only been a little bigger he never would 
have known it.” 

“ If I was going to buy a farm,” cried 
Prissy, “ I’d cultivate some dignity, Billy ” — 

“It can’t be a profitable crop, for Hay- 
wood didn’t speak of it,” retorted Billy ; and 
then, returning to business, he went on. 

“ This year, to begin with, Si, we will have 
twenty-five acres barley.” 

“Yes, there is where the money will be 
made — there, and on the beans ; but there is 
no such easy paying crop as barley.” 

“ Nothing to equal it,” assented Billy, add- 
ing : “then fifteen acres for beans, ten for 
corn, five for potatoes, and five for oats. 


266 How Billy went Up in the World. 

We will mow and pasture the rest of the 
farm.” 

Silas, by this time, was greatly interested, 
and the rest of the evening was spent in 
lively discussions, which, practical and sensi- 
ble as they undoubtedly were, would have 
no interest for the reader. Suffice it to say, 
all satisfactory arrangements for board, and 
for Silas’ services, were made before Billy 
left the little home, at what was an unusually 
late hour for its inmates. 

He felt a new delight in life, and an honest 
pride in the thought of being a land-owner. 
Just within the boundary line of his new farm, 
stood the scroggy old tree in which the bal- 
loon had once been entangled. Billy, seeing 
its dark outlines in the clear starlight, smiled 
to himself, saying : 

“ I certainly alighted on this farm early in 
life. It ought to be mine by right of discov- 
ery. Littl»e Ben was sound when he coun- 
selled me to do my work out in the sunshine. 


A New Departure . 267 

I can almost hear him stutter as he did that 
night granny slept in her chair by the fire, 
and we danced about her like mad things. 
Dear old granny ! I wonder if she has 
found Ben ? If so, she must have wondered 
to see him in heaven, when she supposed she 
left him on earth.” 

Yes, granny had gone out from the cot- 
tage that had sheltered her so long. The 
year after Prissy married, she found her, one 
lovely summer afternoon, sitting with hands 
quietly folded, and her face as pleasant as a 
happy child — but quite dead. 


CHAPTER XV. 


A FADED RAINBOW. 

TT was a warm pleasant evening in the 
latter part of May, and Silas Barnard 
and his wife were enjoying an hour of rest 
after a busy day. It was Si’s habit at this 
time to take down his old fiddle and play 
a few lively tunes for Jack and Jill, who, 
if they were not like their namesakes, per- 
petually tumbling down hill, were always 
in motion, and ready for music. This night, 
however, after he had played ‘ Bonnie 
Doon,’ and the ‘ Arkansas Traveller,’ he 
dropped his bow, saying, “ I’m beat out ; 
we did a big day’s work to-day ; we drilled 
our last acre of barley.” 


A Faded Rainbow. 269 

“ Whereabouts have you sown it ?” ask- 
ed Prissy. 

“The four-rowed we put on that land, 
nearest Ellery’s, the two-rowed is just south 
of it. Where is Billy to-night ? Oh, I 
know ; he said he was going over to see 
Ellery about something or other.” 

“ Anything very important ?” asked Prissy, 
with a knowing smile, which was lost on 
Silas, who was rather dull in some respects. 

“ Well, if he was as tired as I am, he 
wouldn’t think anything important but his 
night’s rest. He has worked as hard, cer- 
tainly.” 

“Nan has come home.” 

“Has she ?” asked Si, with innocent in- 
terest ; “and how does she look ? Where 
has she been this long time, anyway ?” 

“ Why, Si Barnard, if I have told you that 
once I have told you a dozen times over.” 

“ Well now, Prissy, do you want me to be 
keeping track of every pretty girl in the 


270 How Billy went Up in the World \ 

neighborhood ? After the worry I had with 
you, F m glad to let my mind sort o' settle.” 

“ I should think you had better ! For a 
cool-blooded creature you did use to get 
into an awful ferment. Nan Ellery has been 
teaching school in a ladies’ seminary about 
one hundred miles from here.” 

“ What an idea ! With all their money, 
is she going to earn her livin’ ?” 

“That aint it at all. You knew what 
great friends she was with that Miss Sara 
Wells. She was teaching in this school and 
got sick. Nan went to keep her place for 
her till she got well ; then Mrs. Ellery said 
she was so interested in some lectures or 
other on literature — Nan was — she wanted 
to stay and enjoy them and Sara’s compan- 
ionship. Mrs. Ellery don’t need her at 
home, and it must be a little dull for a lively 
girl out here in the country.” 

“ She is a country girl, and ought to be 
contented at home,” said Silas. 


A Faded Rainbow . 


271 


“ And so she is, as happy as a lark when 
she is home. I was up there this afternoon, 
and I declare, she does get prettier every 
day of her life. Her dress was only a pink 
cambric, that didn’t cost over ten cents a 
yard ; but her cheeks were pinker yet, and 
her eyes just snap, or laugh, or sparkle, 
according to what she is saying or thinking.” 

“ Yes, she is a nice girl, Nan is,” said Si, 
with a long yawn; “but I’m so dead tired I’ll 
just go to bed. It does pass my understand- 
ing, what Billy was in such a taking to go 
over and ask about that old wagon for, when 
Ellery has been willing to sell it any time 
this twelve-month.” 

As he shuffled off, with another jaw-break- 
ing yawn, Prissy soliloquized : “ It passes 

my understanding how a man can be so 
dumb over the very next man’s love affairs, 
and the very one too who was so long-sighted 
in seeing reasons for coming over here, when 
he wanted to see somebody. Such far- 


272 How Billy went Up in the World . 

fetched excuses as he’d get up ! I kind o’ 
blushed for him, once in a while. Not as I 
want him to see through Billy, either, for 
poor chap, he’s aiming too high, I fancy, and 
he never ’ll want anybody to see him writhe, 
if he only succeeds in hurting himself. 
Here, you two children, what do you mean 
by carousing around after your own father is 
in bed ? Come here, directly, and let me 
undress you !” 

The twins, who were doing nothing more 
riotous than throwing grass at one another, 
came meekly, and were put away for the 
night. 

Yes, Billy had gone over to the Ellerys’, 
after bestowing more care on his personal 
appearance, than might have been expected 
from a tired farmer going to see his neigh- 
bor on business. He found Mr. Ellery on 
the piazza, and seated himself near by. 

The new farm was a fruitful subject for 
long conversations, and there was but one 


A Faded Rainbow . 273 

thing in the world more interesting to the 
young man, so all was well. It would have 
been better for him, perhaps, if he could 
have said, plainly: “ Where is your daughter, 
Mr. Ellery, I want to see her ?” but he could 
not. Instead, he listened to every footstep 
in the hall behind them, and lost all of a long 
remark of Mr. Ellery’s on last year s potato 
bugs, because he heard Nan singing. 

By-and-by there was a rustle, a sweep of 
skirts down-stairs, and she came out on the 
piazza in the soft light. She immediately 
held out her hand to Billy in a cordial greet- 
ing, and leaning against a post of the piazza, 
exclaimed : 

“ They tell me you are branching out 
greatly ; and I suppose it is settled for all 
time, now, that you are to be a farmer ?” 

“ I suppose so ; wouldn’t you have done 
the same in my place ?” 

“ Perhaps. I have never thought any- 
18 


274 How Billy went Up in the World. 

thing about it. It certainly isn’t a very ex- 
citing life.” 

“ Well, I have managed not to stagnate,” 
said Mr. Ellery. “ In fact, I’ve been stirred 
up several times since I began farming.” 

“ Oh, you are an exceptional man, as any 
one would know who had ever seen your 
only daughter,” laughed Nan, patting his 
gray hair. 

“You are a goose at this state of your 
existence,” returned her father, jocosely, 
continuing : “ In her secret soul, Billy, she 
would like it better in both of us, if we 
blacked our boots, and put on stove-pipe 
hats when we plowed ; perfumed our hand- 
kerchiefs, and carried Tennyson’s poems in 
our coat tail pockets, to read in shady places. 
There is a college professor in there,” he 
went on, mischievously, dropping his voice 
to a whisper, and pointing toward the sit- 
ting-room ; “ and he has been picking his 
way all over the farm to-day, reciting poetry 


A Faded Rainbow . 275 

to Sara Wells and Nan. The very air has 
been full of ‘ ahs ’ and ‘ ohs,’ and pretty sen- 
timents.” 

“ Now, father, don’t get so sarcastic in 
your advancing years,” laughed Nan. 

‘‘Advancing years ! If you don’t look out 
•you will be an old maid yourself,” retorted 
Mr. Ellery. 

“ Have I called you one, that you are so 
hard on me ? How can you make your own 
child appear ridiculous ? Billy, go on and 
tell me about your farm. I only heard at 
the supper table that you had taken one.” 

The previous conversation, if only mildly 
humorous, certainly need not have been de- 
pressing in its effect ; yet the thought of 
Nan not liking a man to be a farmer — worse 
still, the idea of this section of country being 
haunted by a sentimental college professor, 
made Billy uneasy and inclined to gloom. 
He gave a dry response to Nan’s question, 
and began talking of impersonal matters. 


2j6 How Billy went Up in the World. 

“ Where is the Professor ?” persisted Mr. 
Ellery. “ Why don’t he come out ? Is he 
afraid of the dew ?” 

“He is talking with mother; he knows 
friends of hers.” 

“ I’ll warrant he does. I never knew any- 
body from New England who did not know 
friends of your mother,” said the old farmer. 

In a few moments the party in-doors came to 
join the three without. First came Miss Sara 
Wells, with whom Billy had already a slight 
acquaintance; then Mrs. Ellery, anxious lest 
they take cold; last, the “Professor,” look- 
ing very manly and dignified, and soon 
appearing both sensible and interesting. 
There was no reason why the Professor 
should not have found the same true of Billy, 
for the latter aroused himself, so as not to 
seem stupid to Nan, and talked and jested 
with the rest. 

All the while, as they were there together, 
however, Billy was arguing with his jealous 


A Faded Rainbow. 277 

fears, and trying to allay them. How per- 
fectly natural it was that Nan should make 
agreeable acquaintances, and invite them to 
her home. If she did so, what concern was 
it of his ? None whatever, he assured him- 
self ; yet all the time he knew he meant — 
what if some acquaintance, like this gentle- 
man, should be finding out how “ agreeable ” 
Nan was, should try to please her, and 
should succeed ? That was his concern. 
The fear and jealous pain of the very 
thought, let him plainly realize he had given 
all the love he had to give to any human 
being, to this woman. She shared it with no 
father, sister, or brother — only with the faint 
memory of a long dead mother ; and Billy 
was of a nature to feel with his might, where 
he felt at all. As a boy, he had awakened 
to his first love for her, when poor Ned Fen- 
ton had seemed to please her girlish fancy ; 
now, as a man, he was tenfold more in 


earnest. 


2 78 How Billy went Up in the World ’ 

With Nan herself, he was aware he had 
made no headway. They had been continu- 
ally separated, meeting often, but in tantaliz- 
ing ways like the present brief interview ; 
and their old-time, commonplace familiarity 
was an obstacle to any nearer understanding. 
Nan, at least, made it so, by assuming always 
that she knew all about him — or, sometimes 
it was that he fancied she did not care to 
know anything about him, which was equally 
grievous to his heart and his pride. 

Billy was unconscionably proud in one 
respect. Nan, as the only child of a rich 
farmer, was considered a “ catch,” by the 
young men thereabouts, and Mr. Ellery often 
laughed at the interest they took in him. 
Knowing this, Billy set a task always before 
himself, the gaining of a position among 
men, honorable, if relatively humble, and 
something to call his own, before he would 
even venture to make the first direct effort 
to win Nan Ellery's love. He would do 


A Faded Rainbow. 279 

this, lest somebody should dare to say he 
was mercenary, was “ after a rich wife.” 
Early in the evening, as he heard Nan sing- 
ing, he was fancying himself a little older, 
wiser, in every way more worthy of her ; 
was verifying the poet’s words : 

' ‘ The thing we long for, that we are, 

For one transcendent moment, 

Before the present, cold and bare, 

Can give its sneering comment. ” 

But the last lines had been truest after the 
Professor appeared. He called himself a fool, 
and a very presumptuous one at that. 

“ Let us go down the lane by the orchard,” 
exclaimed Sara Wells, in a pause of the con- 
versation. “ I want to see the apple blos- 
soms in the moonlight.” 

Mr. Ellery nodded slyly at Billy, as much 
as to say : “ Did I not tell you we were sen- 
timental these days?” 

Billy did not heed him, for as the young 
people instantly assented to Miss Wells’ plan, 


280 How Billy went Up in the World. 

he sprang quickly into place by Nan. They 
left Mrs. Ellery expostulating about dew, 
night air, and malaria, and strolled away 
laughing and chatting. 

“ What did you give for your farm, Billy ?” 
was Nan’s first practical speech. 

“ It is not paid for yet, nor will it be in 
some time. Haywood asked five thousand 
dollars. I gave five hundred down and 
agreed to pay so much each year until it is 
paid for in full.” 

“You will have work enough ahead of 
you to keep you out of mischief,” said 
Nan. 

“ I am not afraid of work, but I don’t want 
work just for work’s sake,” he returned. 

“ Nobody wants that. There is a rainbow 
with a pot of gold at the end of it^before every 
one of us, is there not, Sara ?” Nan asked, 
laughingly, as she stopped to get a ruffle of 
her dress off a briar. 

“ Certainly,” replied Sara ; “so you must re- 


A Faded Rainbow. 


281 


member what you read this morning — Strive : 
yet I do not promise 

“ ‘The prize you dream of to-day 
Will not fade when you think to grasp it, 

And melt in your hand away. ' ” 

“ That is particularly adapted to you, Billy,” 
began Nan, as Sara went on with her com- 
panion. “ Don’t set your affections on this 
farm of yours, and fancy you will astonish us 
all. Say to yourself that crops fail, droughts 
come, and there is the busy little potato bug, 
on which I heard father growing eloquent a 
while ago.” 

“Your father said you were sentimental, 
but I do not perceive it.” 

“ I am not, but the Professor is,” she an- 
swered, laughing low to herself, and starting 
in surprise when Billy exclaimed : 

“ I detest him ! What is he doing here, 
anyway ? ” 

“Why, you never saw him before ! He is 
visiting us, with Sara Wells.” 


282 How Billy went Up in the World . 

“ I never want to see him again.” 

“ He is a very scholarly man and a perfect 
gentleman.” 

“So much the worse.” 

“ What a savage you are,” remarked Nan, 
coolly. 

“ I hope he is going to marry Miss Wells.” 

“ Sara is engaged to a young minister out 
West.” 

Billy was desperate. He had no controll- 
ing idea beyond the thought that he could 
not and would not strive for years to come 
after something that he must lose after all. 
He would rather know once for all that striv- 
ing was utter folly. He did what he had al- 
ways said he must not do. He told Nan 
that he loved her, that for five years he had 
hoped and feared, planned and waited, ex- 
pecting to keep silence for a long time to 
come, but he could not hold his peace any 
longer. Words came fast, and much was 
told in a short time. He gave Nan no 


A Faded Rainbow. 


283 


chance to speak, had she wished to do so ; 
but if she were proud, there was nothing in 
this man’s confession that need irritate her, 
and .if she were not “sentimental,” she could 
not but be moved by his earnestness, unless 
she disliked him. 

By the way she drew back he feared she 
felt an aversion to him, and he ended with 
the sudden pained query: “You can’t like 
me, perhaps ; but you don’t dislike me, do 
you, Nan ? ” 

She spoke then, impetuously : “ I am 

dreadfully sorry for it all ! I like you — that 
is just it — like you, and that is all of it, or 
that there ever can be of it ; so don’t say an- 
other word ! Come, Sara ! Let us go back 
now, we have gone far enough.” 

The Professor was studying the moonlit 
landscape from the top of a stone fence, and 
took his time about coming down. Billy said 
good-night in haste, and strode along the 
lane homeward. If he “ writhed ” in the days 


284 How Billy went Up in the World. 

that followed, even sharp-eyed Prissy failed 
to detect it. He went about his farm work 
with the energy of a young giant ; and all 
the steady-going farmers in that part of the 
country prophesied that Knox would succeed, 
for there was “ no nonsense about him.” 

A few days after this evening walk, Sara 
and the Professor departed from the Ellery’s. 
Nan remained with her mother, but Billy 
seldom saw her. 


CHAPTER XVI. 


father Hamilton’s test. 

TF there was a trouble in Billy’s heart about 
■*“ these days, he took the wisest way to 
conquer it ; for with tireless industry and in- 
telligent energy he gave himself to his farm 
work. Much as Silas Barnard liked Billy, 
he had joined himself to him with some 
doubts abouts his entire ability to “run a 
farm.” His doubts vanished with a rapidity 
he could hardly have explained to an out- 
sider’s satisfaction. Before Billy had done 
anything in the least remarkable in an agri- 
cultural way, Silas was sure he could accom- 
plish whatever his hand found to do- and 
certain it was he showed a great deal of 
foresight and sagacity in all his operations. 


286 How Billy went Up in the World. 

The first season was one of the most 
favorable a farmer could desire. There was 
just enough sun, just enough rain, and 
as the summer months passed, Billy had 
every reason to anticipate a bountiful har- 
vest. 

He was particularly satisfied with his bar- 
ley, which was coming on splendidly, and he 
resolved to cultivate it more extensively 
each year ; for no crop could be easier to 
raise, less exhausting, or bring in better re- 
turns. He watched it with great interest, 
and at last, in just about three months’ time 
from sowing it, his barley crop was grown, 
thrashed, and ready for market. It had not 
lodged, and was not stained in harvesting, 
but was in every respect of a quality to com- 
mand the highest market price. From his 
twenty-five acres he had thirty-five bushels 
to the acre, and he readily sold it to the Sef- 
ton brewery for eighty cents a bushel, mak- 
ing his share of the profits three hundred 


Father Hamilton s Test . 287 

dollars, and the same amount, of course, went 
to Haywood. 

The day he sold his barley, he reflected 
that everything else about the farm promised 
equally well, and naturally he was exceed- 
ingly gratified. After supper that same 
night, he went over to the farm to report 
himself to Mr. Ellery, according to the lat- 
ter’s request. Knox had been frequently to 
the Ellery farm throughout the summer, but 
he went very seldom within doors, and when 
he saw Mrs. Ellery he had not seen her 
daughter. Nan did not openly avoid him. 
He sat two pews away from her every Sun- 
day, and he knew just how the pink rose- 
buds on her best bonnet fell against the rings 
of soft hair over her left ear. But he had 
made up his mind not to annoy her in 
the future ; perhaps he was the least bit 
sulky when he remembered the Professor, 
who, in Billy’s slightly disturbed imagination, 
was always, as he saw him last, perched 


288 How Billy went Up in the World . 

on the stone wall, in the moonlight, ready to 
descend and conquer when he would. 

This evening, as Billy entered the house, 
he found the family together in the dining- 
room, and, a little to his surprise, Nan greet- 
ed him with unusual cordiality; but he vague- 
ly understood that knowing she had hurt 
him, she might be endeavoring to be doubly 
kind. 

Farm matters were talked over, and Billy 
lingered until the lamps were lighted ; then 
until the school-house bell began to ring for 
the Wednesday evening meeting. 

“ I can’t go over there to-night, Nan,” said 
Mrs. Ellery. “ My rheumatism is troubling 
me again, and your father is too tired, he 
says ; so Billy can go and come with you, if 
he will ; these evenings are pretty dark.” 

Nan colored, but said to Billy, very 
simply : “ I will be glad to have you do so.” 
Then she put on her bonnet and made ready 
to go. On their way to the school-house 


Father Hamilton! s Test. 289 

she talked rapidly, and drew him into the 
half-playful style of dialogue once common 
between them. Billy took his part easily, 
for to talk seriously with Nan was more diffi- 
cult in his present state of mind toward her. 
He had carried himself bravely these past 
months ; but more sun must shine, and more 
rain fall on the young farmer, before he 
could outgrow his old love. When they 
reached the school-house they found about 
twenty neighbors assembled, and already 
singing the hymn, “ Nearer, my God, to 
Thee !” 

There was no vacant place by the door, 
for here, as often in larger prayer-meetings, 
the attendants chose their seats as if with a 
view to sudden flight from the spot ; so the 
new comers were forced to go forward, and 
sit side by side. 

In the chair by the battered desk, where 
by day the school-teacher sat, was an old 
man, who was universally esteemed for his 
19 


290 How Billy went Up in the World. 

blameless character. His words were usually 
few, but they always came from the heart ; 
and so, as Goethe says, they never failed “to 
go to the heart.” Being feeble, he did not 
stand, and because he was too dim-eyed to 
read out of the fine-print Bible there, he 
merely folded his trembling hands, and sit- 
ting, with the mellow lamp-light on his 
silvery hair, said : 

“ I have only two short verses in my mind 
to-night, but they mean whole volumes. 
One means the most honest outcry that 
a human soul can send up to its Creator ; 
and the other means the greatest work the 
Almighty Father can do for his children. 
The first is an awfully solemn prayer, if we 
can only comprehend it, my friends. Don’t 
ever dare to say carelessly to your Maker : 
‘ Search me, O God, and know my heart ; 
try me, and know my thoughts.’ Above all, 
never fall into the error of supposing you 
can sincerely pray that prayer, and have the 


Father Hamilton s Test. 291 

matter end there. As sure as the heaven is 
above you, it will sooner or later be true, 
that: “The Lord, your God, proveth you, 
to know whether ye love the Lord your God 
with all your heart and with all your soul.’ 
Now if we have a secret sudden shrinking 
from uttering that prayer, it is more than 
probable, either that we know of a sin hid- 
den in our hearts, or we fear some permitted 
one may be there, and that God’s search will 
bring it out before our unwilling eyes. 

Each one of you can tell for himself, as he 
sits here to-night, by just putting this verse 
as a prayer test, whether he is blameless or 
not ; for, ‘ He that doeth evil hateth the 
light ; but he that doeth truth, cometh to the 
light that his deeds may be made manifest.’ 

“Years ago I prayed this old prayer with 
earnestness, and I thought it likely that God 
would pour down on me at once, some rich, 
peculiar blessing, because of his pleasure in 
my willingness to have Him read my inmost 


292 How Billy went Up in the World, 

thoughts. How I thank Him, now, that I 
had not really first read them plainly myself. 
If I had done so, I might have kept them 
forever as they were ; for, although He 
blessed me — yes, in the end, most abund- 
antly, yet first, He proved me! Oh, when 
God brings us to the proving, if it need be 
for our own purity, there will be struggle, or 
bitterness, or tears, or agony, or loss ! But, 
when all is over, God knows that we love 
Him, and we know in whom we have be- 
lieved.” 

The plain words of old “ Father Hamilton” 
had put Billy into a thoughtful mood ; and 
he was applying the ideas suggested to his 
own consciousness, when he was startled by 
the request : 

“Will you pray, my young brother?” 

He sat nearest the old man, who was 
looking directly at him when he glanced up, 
and who must have meant him. Regaining 
his self-possession in a moment, he began, 


Father Hamilton s Test. 


293 


but could not at once forget himself, or the 
fact that Nan was at his side ; then fright- 
ened, lest his words be a mockery, his quick 
unuttered petition was for the true spirit of 
prayer ; and soon out of the “ abundance of 
his heart,” his mouth began to speak. 

While he was praying, it came to him 
suddenly, to say : “ Search me and know 
me,” etc. — the request which the old man 
had rightly called “ awfully solemn ;” but 
instantly after the impulse, there was borne 
into him the impression that unless he meant 
it all — unless he was indeed willing to be 
proven by God, it would be profane for him 
to go on. Then, as quick as lightning, came 
the suggestion : “ Change your intended 

prayer ; say something else.” He dared not 
do it, for the old man’s later words returned 
to him, in regard to the reason for a possible 
secret shrinking from uttering that prayer. 

The listeners supposed the young man 
was hesitating a second from some embar- 


294 How Billy went Up in the World. 

rassment, but it seemed to him he was a long 
time silent, so many conflicting thoughts 
were in his mind. “ I ought to be able to 
say it,” he thought, “ and I will, for God 
knows that I do not want to be double- 
minded.” Then, a little out of breath, as 
one after a struggle, he finished his prayer, 
and the meeting went on in the old quiet 
way. 

Before they sang the closing hymn, Billy 
had wondered how he could have made so 
much of so simple a matter, for on calm 
reflection, he was aware of no covered 
wrong-doing in his life or conduct. Indeed, 
as he went out into the night, a quiet happi- 
ness filled his soul. After all, when the Lord 
proved his children, what was it but the 
“ good hand ” of their God upon them ? 

“ Old Father Hamilton ne'ver makes talk 
for the sake of talk, in prayer- meeting,” said 
Nan, as they walked home together. “ He 
is very feeble and forgetful about common 


Father Hamilton's Test. 


2 95 


matters — is just a simple, gentle old man ; 
yet, when I listen to him, I always feel as if 
in some past time he might have been a hero, 
although, maybe nobody but God knows it. 
He seems to me the kind of a man who, if 
every one else about him was going wrong, 
would make true to himself the saying I have 
read somewhere : 4 One with God is a ma- 
jority ; weakness with God is omnipotence.’ ” 
Nan seldom spoke so reverently. She 
usually kept her best thoughts, but she had 
been impressed to-night by the spirit of 
earnestness manifest in the speaker. She 
showed this so plainly, that Billy soon found 
himself telling her how the passage of Scrip- 
ture had, for a little while, staid the -prayer 
on his lips. She understood him, and their 
after talk took on a new tone of interest. 
He remained with the Ellerys an hour or 
more, then returned home, grateful that, tem- 
porally and spiritually, it was as well with 
him as it was. 


296 How Billy went Up in the World. 

As communities go, the region about Sef- 
ton was not worse than many another farming 
section, still there was in it a great deal of in- 
temperance, some infidelity, and various forms 
of immorality. The nearest church was four 
miles from our friend’s farm, but just within 
easy walking distance from them was the 
school-house, where both Sunday and Wed- 
nesday evenings there was held a prayer and 
singing service. Sometimes a minister led 
the exercises, oftener Mr. Ellery, or old Mr. 
Hamilton ; and occasionally Billy Knox was 
pressed into the position of leader. He was 
a good singer, and when he had anything to 
say, he said it forcibly. 

During the excitement before the fall elec- 
tions, political meetings were held in this 
same building, and Knox allied himself with 
the Temperance branch of his party. His 
cause was far from being popular, but as he 
himself was known and liked, he was listened 
to with more tolerance by those who did not 


Father Hamilton s Test. 297 

agree with him than might have been sup- 
posed. Mr. Ellery, who, although a man of 
strong convictions, was decidedly conserva- 
tive, often rallied Billy on being a young 
“ radical.” The simple truth was, the latter’s 
Christian character was developing steadily, 
and according to a certain individuality he 
possessed. He had not, like many a young 
man, seemed to come into religion as a sort 
of respectable family inheritance, like a name, 
a social passport, a something added to him 
from the outside, but his Christianity started 
within and was silently penetrating all his 
thoughts and purposes. Why it was working 
thus is easily explained : he had studied his 
Bible, and prayed with the whole-heartedness 
he once put into study, and which he now put 
into farming. 

Since that Sunday night in the Sefton 
Academy, he had never repented him of his 
prayer : “ Teach me to do thy will ; thy Spir- 
it is good : lead me into the land of upright- 


298 How Billy went Up in the World . 

ness.” If he knew himself, he wished to be 
led ; he meant to follow, and would listen to 
the breathing of the Spirit. Naturally full 
of life and humor, he gave his surface 
thoughts to anybody, and it was only on 
closer acquaintance that one detected the 
workings of a singularly sensitive conscience, 
the warmth of an intense nature, loving and 
loyal — one who would “ find quarrel in a 
straw r when honor’s at the stake.” 

After all the issues of the Fall election 
were settled, Knox’s interest in temperance 
matters was only just thoroughly aroused ; 
and it came to be a common thing for him to 
gather a crowd about him, talking briskly 
in the little building which was the post-office, 
grocery and general rendezvous of the neigh- 
borhood. It was evident that he had no 
private ends to serve, and it was too late for 
him to be electioneering for any one, so the 
discussions he started were usually carried on 
very amicably. However, when the conclave 


Father Hamilton s Test. 299 

broke up, about a third of the hangers-on 
proceeded to cross the road to “ Holmes's ” 
bar, and get a schooner of lager, if nothing 
stronger. 

Now Knox's eloquence was always ex- 
pended on the sin and folly of buying, selling 
or manufacturing strong liquors ; for uncon- 
sciously he had considered beer rather small 
game to hunt down. He disapproved of it 
from early associations ; he sometimes re- 
flected that Ned Fenton began his brief and 
sad career with beer drinking, but never until 
this first winter after he took his farm, did he 
begin to realize that just here was an un- 
guarded trap-door that let many a poor crea- 
ture into a current setting toward perdition. 
He said as much as this to Silas Barnard, 
one day; and received the following re- 
ply: 

“ Shoo ! now that's tall kind of talk ! I aint 
any guzzler, yet I take a glass of beer myself, 
say once a month mebbe, and I aint one whit 


300 How Billy went Up in the World.. 

nearer perdition for it than that humly, red- 
headed baby is.” 

Before Prissy’s wrath would allow her to 
defend her infant’s beauty, Billy replied : “No, 
I admit you are not, for you have no crav- 
ing for it ; you have a cozey home, a table 
with good food, tea and coffee fit for a king ; 
you don’t want beer often ; but Jerry Whitby, 
who used to take it as seldom, now that he 
has lost his home, his wife, and most of his 
money, he is getting beer almost every time 
I pass Holmes’s tavern.” 

“Jerry ought to know better.” 

“ He may know better, but he does not do 
better; and if he could not get beer he would 
be healthier, wealthier and wiser.” 

“Well, he always can, and I guess he al- 
ways will be able to get beer until the last 
wave of the star-spangled-banner ; it looks 
that way to me. So what’s the use 
of fretting yourself over what you can’t 


Father Hamilton! s Test . 301 

“ If I can’t help beer-selling I may keep 
somebody from beer-drinking.” 

“ Mebbe — by chokin’ or pizen. I think it 
is all a question of self-control, and you 
can’t keep much of anybody but Billy Knox 
out of the folly business. It is different with 
beer from what it is with whiskey ; you can 
prove that is a curse on the community ; but 
plenty of folks will face you down that beer is 
a strengthening, innocent drink. I like it 
once in a while myself,” said Si, honestly. 

Billy was balancing Jack on one foot, and 
Jill on the other ; and as the idol was in his 
lap, he looked somewhat like a Chinese 
pagoda with the god sitting in the front 
door. He mused a while in silence, and 
then laughingly remarked : 

“ I knew a Dutchman once who said there 
was no argument so convincing as a * bald- 
headed’ fact. I am going over to see Dr. 
Higbee, some day, and inquire into the nour- 
ishing and strengthening properties of beer.” 


302 How Billy went Up in the World \ 

“ And when you have facts you won’t do 
a particle of good with them,” said the faith- 
less Si, adding : “ One time I see a regular 
rabid old temperance lecturer tackle Tom 
Sykes, the toper, and describe his stomach 
to him — how it was all et up with alcohol, 
and red like raw beef steak. ‘Jest think 
now, Sykes,’ ses he, ‘ in what an awful look- 
ing state the inside of your stomach must 
be ! ’ and Sykes he tittered right out, and 
ses he, ‘ Why, bless you, nobody sees it ’ — 
that’s all he cared for facts.” 

Billy laughed outright, but was not at all 
discouraged by Silas’ lack of enthusiasm. 
He resolved to do his duty in his day and 
generation, to take his stand on the side of 
good morals, and the best interests of his 
fellow-men. Whenever he thought of Ned 
Fenton, he remembered the hosts of good- 
natured, lovable fellows, just so easily temp- 
ted as Ned had been, and he strongly desired 


Father Hamilton! s Test. 303 

to help any such who might come in his way 
by every means he could exert. 

One day, about this time, Knox had to go 
into Sefton on business ; and passing Dr. 
Higbee’s office, he bethought himself to drop 
in for a chat with the old man. He found 
him resting after a long ride. 

“ Well, Knox, I hear a very good account 
of you ! Did a fine thing, I guess, taking 
that farm ; there’s work to do, but it will 
keep you steady as a clock. How are they 
all out to Ellery’s ? That’s a pretty girl the 
old gentleman has ! He had her in town 
the other day, and stopped to introduce me 
to her. I declare, I was sorry I was almost 
seventy. Whose horse is that, yours ?” 

“ Yes,” replied Billy, warming his hands 
by the doctor’s red-hot stove. 

“ It is a good-looking beast Yes, and I 
hear you are coming out strong on the tem- 
perance question. Well, go ahead, there’s 
work enough on that line.” 


304 How Billy went Up in the World. 

“ Doctor, do you ever drink beer ?” asked 
Knox, finding that the old fellow was in a 
genial mood. 

“ Never, now-a-days. I used to take a 
glass once in a while. I got into the way of it 
tramping in the Bavarian Alps forty-odd years 
ago. I fancied then that beer was the secret 
of those peasants' strength. I remember 
once going from Murnan, a charming spot, 
to a hamlet a day’s journey off. Just at sun- 
set, entering the village, I passed an old 
woman washing her feet in a brook, and try- 
ing on some finery like a young girl. She 
said she was seventy- one years old, and had 
walked nineteen miles that day. Later, as 
she was drinking her big mug of beer on a 
bench outside the door of a house painted 
all over like a Bible picture-book, I inter- 
viewed her, and concluded air, plain food, 
and above all, constant out-door, vigorous 
exercise had made her tough — and not the 
famous beer.” 


Father Hamilton! s Test. 


305 

“ But do you think beer, taken in modera- 
tion, is injurious, doctor ?” 

“See here; I have something near by that 
will answer you ! The ‘ Physio- Medical Re- 
corder’ says: 

“ ‘ It is now a conceded physiological fact 
that ardent spirits, in every shape and form, 
from small beer to alcohol at one hundred 
per cent., impede and impair digestion, and 
are adverse to the whole alimentary process 
* * * The idea that liquor aids digestion 

is both erroneous and absurd ; for, so far 
from that, it weakens the nerves, stultifies 
the brain, cowers the heart, and materially 
injures the whole human organism.’ I be- 
lieve that, every word of it.” 

“Yes, no doubt it is true, as regards 
stronger liquors ; but many excellent people 
insist that beer does them good — builds 
them up when they are run down.” 

“ Oh, of course. Scores of my patients 
prescribe it for themselves. It is even more 
20 


306 How Billy went Up in the World. 

popular than bitters ; but every one of these 
excellent people is the * wictim o' gammon,’ 
as Sammy Weller said of his ‘pa.’ If you 
want particulars, hear this : it is the word of 
Dr. Crothers, the editor of the ‘ Quarterly 
Journal of Inebriety.’ 

“ ‘The use of beer is found to produce a 
species of degeneration of all the organism, 
profound and deep-seated. Fatty deposits, 
diminished circulation, conditions of conges- 
tion, and perversion of functional activities, 
local inflammation of both the liver and the 
kidneys, are constantly present. Intellectu- 
ally, a stupor amounting almost to paralysis, 
arrests the reason, precipitating all the 
higher faculties into a mere animalism, sen- 
sual, selfish, sluggish, varied only with 
paroxysms of anger that are senseless and 
brutal. In appearance, the beer-drinker 
may be the picture of health, but in reality 
he is most incapable of resisting disease. 


Father Hamilton! s Test , 307 

A slight injury, severe cold, or shock to the 
body or mind, will commonly provoke acute 
disease, ending fatally. Compared with in- 
ebriates who use different forms of alcohol, 
he is more incurable, and more generally 
diseased. The constant use of beer every 
day gives the system no time for recupera- 
tion, but steadily lowers the vital forces ; it 
is our observation that beer-drinking in this 
country produces the very lowest forms of 
inebriety, closely allied to criminal insanity. 
The most dangerous class of tramps and 
ruffians in our large cities are beer-drinkers. 
It is asserted by competent authority that 
the evils of heredity are more positive in this 
class than from alcoholics. If these facts are 
well founded, the recourse to beer as a sub- 
stitute for alcohol merely increases the dan- 
ger and fatality following.’ ” 

“ But I was not talking about immoder- 
ate beer-drinking. Your patients are not 


308 How Billy went Up in the World, 

tramps nor ruffians, nor likely to be, are 
they ?” 

“ No, certainly not; but there is no good 
in beer-drinking, let little or much be taken. 
Liebig declares that : 

“ ‘ The whole purpose of brewing is to get 
rid of the nitrogenous, blood-forming ele- 
ments of the grain, and to transmute the 
useful sugar into alcohol.’ He says : ‘ We 
can prove with mathematical certainty that 
as much flour as can lie on the point of a 
table-knife is more nutritious than eight 
quarts of the best Bavarian beer.’ ” 

The old doctor paused a moment for 
breath, and then went on with renewed 
energy. “ Horace Greeley hit the nail on 
the head in something he wrote once. Hor- 
ace had hobbies, but he was sound in this. 

“ ‘ They greatly mistake who in this coun- 
try hope to live longer by drinking wines or 
malt liquors than they would expect to if 


Father Hamilton! s Test . 


309 


addicted instead to distilled spirits. True, 
there is less alcohol in the same quantity of 
the fermented beverages, but the same quan- 
tity will not content them. Deceive them- 
selves as they may, it is the alcoholic 
stimulus that their depraved appetites exact, 
and if indulged at all, they will be indulged 
to the constantly receding point of satisfac- 
tion. The single glass of wine or beer per 
day which sufficed at the beginning will soon 
be enlarged or repeated. It was enough to 
start the blood into a gallop yesterday, but 
falls short to-day, and will not begin to do 
to-morrow.’ ” 

The doctor stopped to give Billy a chance 
to make any remark, but the young man 
only said: “Go ahead, doctor; I came to 
get your ideas, not to give you mine.” 

“ Well, I am giving you the opinion of 
abler men than Higbee; and if you are 
getting up a temperance lecture, I can furn- 


310 How Billy went Up in the World \ 

ish you no end of facts, statistics, and 
authorities, all reliable and weighty. I am 
glad you are taking up this subject. Alco- 
hol is an unmitigated curse ; and Dr. Wil- 
lard Parker knows what he means when he 
says it is one, ‘ whether in wine, or ale, or 
whiskey, for it is killing the race of men.’ 
Yes, I am fully convinced — and I have 
formed my opinions slowly — that we multi- 
ply diseases, poverty, crime, laziness, and 
every stage of idiocy, insanity and drunken- 
ness, when we multiply beer-drinkers. I 
believe it, after nearly fifty years’ experience 
as a physician ; and if you want similar tes- 
timony from wiser men, I can give it to 
you. 

“Your opinion is enough for me,” returned 
Billy ; but the doctor was tumbling the 
pamphlets which strewed his table, and be- 
gan again : 

“ Dr. Charles R. Drysdale, the senior phy- 
sician of the London Metropolitan Free Hos- 


Father Hamilton s Test . 3 1 1 

pital, referring to alcoholic beverages as op- 
posed to health, says : 

“ ‘ Beer, wine, and spirits are all, in my 
recollection, associated with such a series of 
sufferings, horrors, and human depravity that 
I have a kind of superstitious dislike to see- 
ing any one I love and respect countenanc- 
ing in the slightest degree, by example or 
precept, these dangerous drugs. It is in 
London, above all, that the physician learns 
what are the diseases caused by beer-drink- 
ing, since London is famous for its beer.’ 
Then hear this too : 

“ Dr. Edwards says : ‘ The diseases of 
beer-drinkers are always of a dangerous 
character, and, in case of an accident, they 
can never undergo the most trifling operation 
with the security of the temperate. They 
almost invariably die under it.’ 

“ Dr. Grinrod, a prominent London phy- 
sician, says: ‘A copious beer-drinker is all 
one vital part. He wears his heart on his 


3 1 2 How Billy went Up in the World. 

sleeve, bare to a death wound even from a 
rusty nail or the claw of a cat.* 

“ Dr. Gordon says : ‘ The beer-drinkers, 
when attacked with acute disease, are not 
able to bear depletion, and they died 

“ Dr. Nixon says : ‘ Intoxicating drinks, 

whether taken in the form of fermented or 
distilled liquors, are a very frequent predis- 
posing cause of disease.’ 

“ You see, Knox, I am taking the profes- 
sional, and not the moral view of beer-drink- 
ing, but the one ought to stand for the other. 
No person has a right to injure his own 
body, nor any one’s else. I neither drink 
myself nor prescribe beer for others.” 

“ How much alcohol does lager beer con- 
tain ?” asked Billy. 

“ From five to eight per cent., according 
to its strength.” 

“ What I started out to learn was if beer 
ever was really helpful, if it ever did pro- 
mote digestion, and ” — 


Father Hamilton s Test. 


3i3 


'‘I was going to tell you,” broke in Dr. 
Higbee, “ that Liebig answers this question. 
He says that ‘in the action of the gastric 
juice on the food, no other element takes a 
share except the oxygen of the atmosphere 
and the elements of water so if beer pro- 
motes digestion it is by the ninety per cent, 
of water in it, and not the six per cent, of 
alcohol, nor the two and two-thirds per cent, 
of gum, nor the one and one-third per. cent, 
of other ingredients. He goes on to show 
that all substances which can arrest the 
phenomena of fermentation and putrefaction 
in liquids, also arrest digestion, when taken 
into the stomach. Nothing will do this equal 
to alcohol ; therefore the alcohol of lager must 
interfere with digestion, not promote it.” 

“ I am convinced,” was Billy’s comment. 

“ I will give you some pamphlets to read,” 
said the doctor. He had just collected them 
when a patient arrived and the interview 
ended. 


314 How Billy went Up in the World ’ 

When Billy next addressed his little audi- 
ence in the shop, his arguments were more 
methodically thought out, his style was 
really spirited, and his effort quite worthy to 
be called a “ temperance lecture.” Before 
the winter was over his opinions were 
known far and wide. The best part of the 
community sympathized with his sentiments, 
but a slight hostility toward him made itself 
apparent in the proprietor and patrons of 
“ Holmes’s ” bar. It was the opinion of these 
individuals, that he was “ putting on airs, 
and would do well to mind his own affairs.” 


CHAPTER XVII. 


A RANDOM SHOT. 

TPXWELLERS in a city are accustomed to 
grand parades, to informal fireworks, 
to noise, in short to all kinds of excitement. 
They can hardly understand the interest of a 
Fourth of July celebration in a large country 
town. Such an affair occurred in Sefton the 
second year of Billy’s farming, and was 
greatly enjoyed by the inhabitants. The 
Fourth happened on a bright day, and by 
nine o’clock the Barnards were ready to 
start for the field of operations. Prissy, as 
she stowed her three youngsters away in the 
wagon, warned Silas to watch Urban (the 
idol), for he would surely eat any torpedoes 
or fireworks that came to hand. She 


3 1 6 How Billy went Up in the World \ 

solemnly adjured the twins not to squeeze 
orange juice over their new pink frocks, and 
then she began wondering why Billy Knox 
did not appear. 

“ Don’t feeze and fret ! ” said Silas, pick- 
ing up the reins. “ Billy is going to Sefton 
along with the Ellery’s. The old man has 
got a lame wrist, and he wanted him to 
drive.” 

“Oh, has he? Well, hurry, Silas, or we 
shall be late.” 

“ No, there they be now, just ahead of us. 
Billy didn’t care about the parade. He said 
he shouldn’t go into town until noon, but I 
suppose he had to be accommodating.” 

“Yes, he can accommodate himself to 
Nan’s movements almost any time,” said 
Prissy, forced just afterwards to put her fin- 
gers down Urban’s throat, after an agate but- 
ton. He certainly did think his stomach was 
the best receptacle for any rubbish about the 
outside universe. The spluttering ended, 


A Random Shot . 317 

Prissy noticed that Silas was lost in medita- 
tion. 

“ What are you thinking about ? ” she 
asked. 

“ Why, that ! ” 

-What?” 

“Why Billy and Nan Ellery! Is he — 
does he ” — 

“ Yes, he is and he does; and he has been 
for the last three years,” returned Prissy, reck- 
less of all syntax, adding, “ but I guess it is all 
on his part. There, I hear brass bands !” 

They were crossing the town boundaries, 
and soon had met the Ellery’s. The teams 
had been put in a safe place, the families 
had joined forces and were in the Park, the 
centre of festivities. The trees shaded them 
pleasantly ; the houses on every side were 
gay with flags, and the on-coming parade 
was sufficiently gorgeous. The marshal 
first (a peaceful citizen, looking to-day like a 
bloodthirsty warrior), the Goddess of Liber- 


3 1 8 How Billy went Up in the World. 

ty, the States of the Union (young ladies in 
red, white and blue), the soldiers of the 
Grand Army, the town firemen — all were 
there in proper order. Bells rang, cannons 
fired, and Prissy, excited by the music, was as 
lively as were Jack and Jill. 

Billy, who remembered many street pro- 
cessions in New York, was chiefly interested 
in meeting his friends ; for everywhere he 
met familiar faces. Before the oration, 
however, he was careful to secure the cool 
corner of a stone porch, where the ladies 
could be out of the crowd. Perhaps he 
heard everything said by the long-winded 
speaker, * and enjoyed the reading of the 
“ Declaration,” but he did not lose any of 
Nan’s merry comments on the scene around 
them. Often during the past year he had 
said to himself, that as he had no reason to 
think Nan would ever return his affection, it 
was wise for him to shun her society. That 
was his theory ; his practice was never to 


A Random Shot. 319 

lose an opportunity like the present to enjoy 
her conversation. He had not been alarmed 
for a long time by mention or by sight of the 
Professor, and gradually, his fears in that di- 
rection were allayed. He often nowadays 
called at the Ellery’s, and Nan never avoided 
him. 

When the speeches were over, the Bar- 
nards wandered off to show the twins every- 
thing astonishing that the town afforded. 
Mrs. Ellery went with her husband some- 
where for a cup of tea, leaving Nan and Bil- 
ly together. They were away from the 
noise and the crowd, yet near enough to see 
it all, had they cared to see. Billy was too 
happy to sit quietly near Nan and talk of 
the Academy, of their school friends, and 
similar topics. At last he ventured one di- 
rect question, his eyes full of meaning: 
“ Where is your friend the Professor?” 

“ In Boston.” 

“ Married ? ” 


320 How Billy went Up in the World ’ 

“ Yes, six months ago,” replied Nan. 

“ I am so glad to know it,” said Billy. 

When the most formal ceremonies of the 
day were ended, he betook himself to the 
one large hotel of the town to see a man 
with whom he had appointed an interview. 
He not only found him, but with him were 
many acquaintances, all talking of the news, 
politics, or business. A few were in very 
high spirits, owing to excess of patriotism, 
or the proximity of the Sefton House bar ; 
and after a while, Billy perceived that his 
neighbor Holmes was behind this bar as an 
extra assistant for the day. 

“ Phew 1 Isn’t it hot here !” exclaimed a 
pleasant-faced man, one of the group with 
Billy. “ I seldom drink beer, but that looks 
cooling. Won’t you have a glass, Knox ?” 

“No, thanks.” 

“ Don’t you ever take it 

“ Oh, don’t you know Knox is as mad as 
a March hare on the temperance hobby ?” 


A Random Shot . 


3 21 


laughed a bystander. “ It is of no use to 
ask him to drink.” 

“Yes,” added another, “Holmes here, 
says he is spoiling the beer trade up his 
way.” 

“ He’s spoiling other folks’ interest in it, 
but, mind you, he ain’t hurting his own 
a penny’s worth,” grumbled Holmes. 

“ How is that ?” asked Billy. 

“ What do you suppose I sell beer for, 
anyway ?” was Holmes’ loud return question. 

“ Why, to make money by it, I suppose.” 

“ Exactly ! I have bought a public house, 
and I have got to sell beer to pay expenses. 
Now you have taken a farm, and you are 
trying to pay for it, too, ain’t you, Knox ?” 

“ That is just what I am doing.” 

“ Very well, then. I sell lager over the 
counter, by the glass ; and you sell lager by 
a bigger measure. What is the difference, 
I’d like to know? You raise barley to go 
in one door of the brewery, and when it 
21 


322 How Billy went Up in the World. 

passes out of your hands, you hold them up 
in holy horror at a fellow who sells the lager 
that comes out of the other door.” 

A loud laugh went around, not so much at 
the significance of the defence, as at Holmes’ 
triumphant tone, and Knox’s expression of 
amazement ; for the latter stood a second 
speechless. Of course, there was an absur- 
dity, or a catch, in this adroitly turned argu- 
ment of the bar-tender ; but he could not in 
his sudden bewilderment, get hold of the 
fallacy to expose it. He stammered : 

“ All barley is not raised for the brewery.” 

“No; but all that you sell goes there, 
straight enough, and you know it.” 

“ If I raise and sell good grain, I’m not 
responsible for the bad use it is put to after- 
wards.” 

“ I don’t say as you are ; and by that 
same token, if I sell a glass of good sound 
beer, you needn’t go ranting around about 
the misery I’m making. I aint responsible 


A Random Shot. 


3^3 

for the bad use made of lager. I tell you, 
Knox, we’re after the very same fish, with 
the very same bait; and if your line is longer, 
and has got more knots in it, you’re at the 
other end of it, all the same. Hello here, 
Jim, these gentlemen want glasses !” 

The laugh had subsided ; the bar-tender 
was immediately intent on his duties ; and 
the man who had been interrupted in a talk 
with Billy about a self-binder, went on as 
before the digression. In the opinion of the 
crowd, nothing of any weight had been said. 
Everybody who owned a farm raised barley. 
Holmes had only hit on this notion as one 
calculated, for the time, to silence Knox. 

“ Where have my wits gone ?” thought 
Billy, half-listening to the praises of the 
binder. “ I ought not to have let Holmes 
get the best of me like that. I must 
straighten out this kink, and be ready for 
him my next chance.” 

A new comer greeted him, and later the 


324 How Billy went Up in the World. 

incident was only remembered as a slightly 
unpleasant episode. Then came a Sunday 
afternoon before harvest, when it was re- 
called to him by a chance remark of Silas’. 
They were sitting together in the doorway 
— the Barnards and Billy — as Si, looking up 
from a paper, said : 

“ If nothing happens to that barley out 
there, before harvest, it will beat our last 
year’s crop all holler.” 

“ Stop your week-day talk, Si,” said Prissy, 
promptly. “ Remember the man who was 
going to pull down his barns and build 
greater.” 

“ Tell me about him ! Tell me about 
him !” roared Jack, before whom the mention 
of a story was a red rag exciting him to 
frenzy. Prissy resigned herself to giving 
details ; while Billy, coming nearer Silas, 
told him for the first time of Holmes’ speech 
in the Sefton House. 

Si, shrugging his shoulders, laughed : 


A Random Shot . 


325 

“ Why, I didn’t think Holmes had gumption 
enough to fire such a shot as that.” 

“ Well, it was like shot ; it floored me. 
What would you have said to it ?” 

“ I should have thought of my smart an- 
swer next day.” 

“ I have not thought of it yet. If it is 
wrong for Holmes to sell beer, because it is 
beer, why isn’t it wrong for me to sell what 
is surely going to be beer?” 

“ Oh, all your barley don’t go to make 
beer. We save some for the critters, and 
some for seed, and ” — 

“ Don’t fool around a question in that 
way, Si ! We farmers raise barley to sell to 
the dealers, or to the breweries, and we 
know what the dealers and brewers do with 
it. We are not so particular, all for nothing, 
not to mix the two kinds of grain. We 
know which malts the sooner, and brings the 
higher price.” 

“ Just so, we do ; but then, we haven’t got 


326 How Billy went Up in the World. 

anything to do with that barley after it leaves 
our hands. You would not say, for instance, 
that men have no business to make firearms, 
because burglars, murderers, pirates, and 
suiciders, are continually blowing somebody’s 
brains out, after they’ve bought ’em ?” 

“No,” replied Billy; “but firearms are 
made for honest use, by respectable men ; 
they are, strictly speaking, to protect life, 
not to destroy it. If a gunsmith could 
know that all the weapons he made, were 
bought and sold for evil purposes, what 
then ?” 

“ He’d better shut up shop, unless a little 
more or less on his conscience didn’t matter.” 

“Don’t you go too fast, Si,” said Knox, 
with rather a grim smile. “ Remember I’ve 
got this farm to pay for yet.” 

“ Oh, of course, you’re only talking, not 
acting. Every farmer, almost, in the county 
raises barley. What did the Lord make it 
to grow so easy for, and let it be just the 


A Random Shot . 327 

sort of a splendid paying crop it is, if we 
weren’t going to be allowed to cultivate and 
make money out of it ?” 

“ I don’t know why, but I am not pre- 
pared to say He made it for us to sell pre- 
cisely in this way ; unless I can go on and 
show that He meant to bless the dealers in 
buying it, the brewers in malting it, the 
lager beer sellers in dealing it out, and the 
poor wretches who may get drunk on it. 
Why He should bless barley for my benefit, 
while it is growing one side a fence, and 
seem to set a curse on it as soon as it gets 
on the other side, and I’ve sold it at a good 
price — this is not perfectly clear to me, just 
at present.” 

“ Well, now, I guess I wouldn’t go into 
metaphysics,” said Si, soothingly. “Just be 
a practical farmer, like all the rest of your 
neighbors; they raise barley without a com- 
punction.” 

“Yes, Si, you are on the beaten track 


328 How Billy went Up in the World \ 

now ; but is that always a safe way to put 
down an uneasy conscience ? There was a 
Scotch preacher who quoted David’s words, 
‘ I said in my haste all men are liars and 
then he added, that if David had lived now- 
adays he ‘ might have said it at his leisure 
nevertheless, Si Barnard, do you plead the 
fact that other men lie, as a reason why you 
may ?” 

“ I hadn’t reserved that privilege to my- 
self, though it would be mighty convenient, 
now and then,” returned Silas, striking out 
after a troublesome fly. “ But, see here, 
Billy,” he went on, in a minute, “ you are 
assuming that beer-making is necessarily all 
wrong, and that beer-drinking is positively 
evil. I aint clear on that pint, yet.” 

“ Now, Si, you ought to know that the 
tendency of beer-drinking is to create a taste 
for alcoholic stimulants. You ought to in- 
form yourself of” — 

‘‘You have been at that game of informa- 


A Random Shot. 329 

tion, and I don’t believe you are going to 
find it a paying one,” put in Si. 

“ Yes, I have found out several things. I 
know that the breweries of the United States 
now produce one-half as much alcohol as the 
distilleries. In fact, Si, I will tell you a few 
things about the beer-drinking and beer- 
selling, in our own country, that will surprise 
you.” So saying, Billy gave Silas the bene- 
fit of much he had gleaned from Doctor 
Higbee’s pamphlets. Si listened attentively, 
without any clear idea that Billy’s “talk,” as 
he called it, was really the result of a con- 
science active on the barley question. 

When Billy’s first year ended on the farm, 
it had been so satisfactory, in almost every 
respect, that Mr. Ellery had warned, him not 
to be too sanguine and elated. He assured 
him he could not expect every season would 
be as favorable, and every crop would not 
turn out as well ; but this second year was 


330 How Billy went Up in the World . 

one of even greater promise than the first. 
He was certain of his ability to meet all 
claims against him in the future, if only his 
health was spared, and floods or droughts 
were not sent to spoil the results of his 
labor. Up to the Fourth of July mentioned, 
his satisfaction regarding the farm, and its 
crops, had been unalloyed ; then came a 
change in him. 

Billy would have given a great deal to 
have been able to forget that speech of 
Holmes’ in the days that remained before 
his barley was harvested ; but he could not 
keep out of his head the question: “Can I 
be doing wrong ? How can I give up rais- 
ing barley ?” 

He must pay his debts, must meet each 
returning pay-day with the amount due Hay- 
wood in his hand. How could he expect to 
do this, if he were to cut off one of the main 
sources of his income ? As he looked across 
his wide fields of grain, just ready to reap, he 


A Random Shot. 


33i 


knew that this crop he should surely sell ; but 
should he save seed and sow again next 
spring ? He argued the point with himself 
each day as he worked ; he thought of it when 
awake at night, and he came no nearer a 
decision; for he always came back to the 
conviction : 

“ I must ; I have no choice. I could not 
pay for my farm, or meet my other obliga- 
tions, if I were to stop raising barley.” Yet, 
if he was doing wrong, was he not bound to 
stop at once, and let the results be as disas- 
trous as they might be ? He could not ask 
any one's advice, for it seemed to him no one 
could enter into his perplexity and struggle, 
unless after a similar experience. He shrunk 
from telling of his conflict, because it must 
be, after all, his own fight from beginning to 
end. 

Silas Barnard was the only person who 
suspected that Billy was making a personal 
application of his temperance ideas, and Silas 


33 2 How Billy went Up in the World, 

saw only his surface thoughts. One even- 
ing, in a general way, Billy put the matter 
before Nan Ellery ; but he stated it so un- 
concernedly, she failed to grasp his meaning, 
and even laughed a little about his splitting 
straws, and getting fanatical. He fancied 
she would think his conscientious scruples 
absurd and needless. 


CHAPTER XVIII. 


“wi-iat shall the harvest be?” 

HE sunny beautiful days went swiftly 



x by, and the harvest came ; then every 
hour was so filled with work, that there 
was no time to settle moral questions. 
They dropped out of Billy's thoughts until 
the day he carried his barley into Sefton, 
and did much better than he had done with 
it the year before. He had been glad last 
season to get eighty cents a bushel for his 
grain, and was satisfied with his crop of 
thirty-five bushels to the acre. This year 
he had forty bushels to the acre, and sold 
his barley at the brewery for ten shillings 
per bushel. As he started for town that 
morning he found himself wishing that the 


334 How Billy went Up in the World. 

great brewery was not so near — if it were in 
a city farther away he would sell his barley 
to a dealer, and — and — . He followed the 
idea no .longer. A neighbor driving into 
town joined him, a man universally respect- 
ed. He was enthusiastic about the success 
of a friend of his who got his seed from 
Canada, and found that it yielded him from 
fifty to sixty bushels of the four-rowed 
barley. 

“ Mr. Waite,” said Knox, “ did you ever 
think it was wrong to raise barley ?” 

“ Wrong?” 

“ Arn’t we helping along the cause of in- 
temperance ?” 

“ O nonsense ! Talk that to this fellow 
who had forty acres of this Canadian barley. 
Do you suppose he’d stop raising it?” 

“ Not if he thought it wrong ?” 

“ It aint in human farmer nature to see it 
wrong, I reckon.” 

The words were empty, but the airy tone 


“ What Shall the Harvest be ?” 335 

in which the matter was disposed of suited 
Billy’s present mood, and greatly helped him 
to sell his barley a little later. 

In the afternoon he had a pressure of 
other business to attend to, and the day was 
gone before all was accomplished. Jog- 
ging along home in the sunset light, he 
began to calculate how long it would be be- 
fore he could clear off all his debts and own 
his farm, if he were to go on raising barley, 
and from such seed as Waite had told of 
that morning. He was too tired with the 
excitement of the day to think clearly — too 
tired to be troubled by the old question of 
right in the matter. His thoughts, allowed 
to drift at will, turned backward to his early 
boyhood, and. he saw bits of life as in a 
kaleidoscope. Blear-eyed Sail, the old hag 
who sold beer slops in the Water Street cel- 
lar ; — he could see the cobwebs full of dirt in 
her own window, could smell the vile odor of 
her den, and see the tramps who ‘stumbled 


336 How Billy went Up in the World. 

down into the dimness and filth, to swear over 
their coffee and her beer. Far pleasanter to 
recall was the face of a pretty young shop- 
girl who used to send him to buy her beer 
at a grocery. She had it every night when 
her work was over. At first she sent him 
with a little blue pitcher, and took it half- 
shamedfacedly. She used to go herself, 
bareheaded, for it, after a while, and would 

l 

stop to joke with men about the grocery. 
She lost her pretty face and nice ways. He 
remembered a day when she was drunk, — 
another day when the women of the alley 
called her vile names ; he had wondered at 
that, for they all drank beer. That night 
she threw herself into the river, and a few of 
those same women cried over her dead body, 
and said it “ was drink at the first ” that 
ruined her. He had forgotten poor Nellie 
for years. 

Next there came to him a moon-lit Sun- 
day night, when Ned Fenton was walking a 


u What Shall the Harvest be?” 337 

Sefton street with him, and they came to 
the bright saloon. He could hear that gay 
voice so plainly. “ Hold on, Knox ! Don’t 
you want a glass of beer ?” He could see 
the young fellow bowed down in self-disgust 
another night, when he said, “ I am morally 
weak.” The world was full of weak men, 
who fell before temptation — and beer was a 
curse. Knox had arrived at this conclusion 
already. It annoyed him that his mind 
dwelt on the subject so persistingly. He 
whipped up his horse and sang the rest of 
the way home. 

Billy was very tired that evening, and 
would gladly have staid at home from the 
weekly meeting ; but he had agreed to deliv- 
er a message from a man in Sefton to a per- 
son who would probably be at the school- 
house, and he could not properly tell it to any 
one else. At this time of year the attend- 
ance was small, and the best leaders not al- 
ways at hand. Not being in a mood himself 
22 


338 How Billy went Up in the World . 

to render active service, and remembering 
this, Knox started late. 

A few were present, but the evening was 
sultry and everybody looked dull and drowsy. 
Seeing a good but rather tedious man at 
the desk, Billy sank down near the door, 
thinking he could rest his body, if he were 
not very much edified spiritually ; but soon, 
weary as he was, he found his mind unusually 
lively. Now that his barley crop was sold, 
and that matter decided for the season, he 
resolved to put aside for future settlement 
the question whether or not he should sow it 
again. If he had erred in the past, he must 
redeem the time that remained by some 
unusual exertion. He resolved soon to move 
in a matter that had been suggested to him 
some months previous : the starting of a 
“Young Men’s Christian Association” in 
Sefton. He ran over in his mind a list of 
available workers, and during a lengthy 
prayer he found himself planning the proper 


“ What Shall the Harvest be r 339 

organization in a way to get it in order 
before winter. After the prayer and a hymn, 
the leader chose a chapter from Jeremiah, 
apparently at random, and read it rather 
unintelligibly. Billy was wondering if the 
Association could not from the first carry 
on a course of lectures, and he resolved that 
the subject of Temperance should be made 
prominent. 

The lamp by the reader smoked; he turned 
it down, and then went on with the only sen- 
tence that attracted Billy’s attention that 
evening : “ Cursed be he that doeth the 
work of the Lord deceitfully.” Not having 
known there was such a verse in the Bible, 
he began to puzzle over its meaning. A man 
might easily do his own work deceitfully, if he 
did it claiming that he were working for his 
master ; but this was said of one doing the 
Lord’s work — doing it deceitfully. 

Now a man might, for instance, be starting 
a Christian Association, with the sole purpose 


340 How Billy went Up in the World. 

to make other men better, and yet its founder 
himself might not be right in the sight of the 
Lord. If the words could bear any such in- 
terpretation, would they apply in any way to 
him ? So far as he knew his motives were of 
the best. “Every way of a man is right in 
his own eyes, but the Lord pondereth the 
heart,” — came to him. 

Then, as Knox sat there, verse after verse, 
that he had never consciously committed to 
memory, passed through his mind. “ The 
Lord seetli not as man seeth ; for man 
looketh on the outward appearance, but the 
Lord looketh on the heart.” “All things 
are naked and open unto the eyes of Him 
with whom we have to do.” “ A deceived 
heart hath turned him aside that he cannot 
deliver his soul, nor say : Is there not a lie 
in my right hand ?” 

Scarcely a word of the leader’s discourse 
did Billy hear, or heed ; and when the last 
hymn was sung, he forgot the message he 


“ What Shall the Harvest be?” 341 

had to give, and hastened out, asking him- 
self: “What have I done, or failed to do, 
that* I should be harassed by this idea of 
something wrong, somewhere? Do I not 
know I am a child of God? Yes. Do I not 
wish to walk in His light? Yes. If I have 
sinned in some undefined way ” — He stop- 
ped, standing there in the darkness. “ No, 
let me be perfectly sincere ! If it is possible 
that I have sinned in selling this barley, am 
I not sorry for the sin ?” He dare not, all 
alone with God, say, unreservedly : “Yes/' 
for that whisper within him, was even then 
sugg es ting : “If you sorrow after a godly 
sort, what carefulness is wrought in you ; 
yea, what clearing of yourself.” 

How long he stood in the quiet lane, with 
the night wind rustling the unseen foliage 
around him, he did not realize. He was 
possessed by two alternating ideas: either 
he was overtired, mentally, and so was giv- 
ing way to a morbid self-analysis ; or else 


342 How Billy went Up in the World. 

he was about to enter on that most weary- 
ing of all contests, a battle with a rebellious 
conscience, which must be conquered or a 
conqueror. 

It was in vain that he said to himself, that 
there was no more barley to be sown for 
months to come, much less any to be sold. 
He could not longer avoid the moral issue. 
One question must be answered once for all : 
Not — Is it wrong for men to sell barley to 
breweries ? but, is it wrong for William 
Knox to sell his barley for beer-making? 
He could not stay there in the darkness to 
answer it, so he went on home, finding the 
little house quiet, its inmates all retired. 

He went to his room, and to his bed, re- 
solved to sleep, if it were possible ; but no 
sleep came to him. “ It is of no use for me 
to ask the opinion of any man not a Christ- 
ian,” he reflected ; “ for if I were not one 
myself, I think I should surely raise barley. 
No motive which had to do with my fellow- 


“ What Shall the Harvest be?” 343 


men, quite apart from my relations toward 
God, would be weighty enough to keep me 
from it. I don’t want to see men drunkards, 
but I would say they became so at their own 
peril. It is this calling God, ‘ Our Father,* 
that shuts our lips when otherwise we would 
ask : ‘ Am I my brother’s keeper ?’ 

“ If I could only be sure I had no respon- 
sibility as to the evil done by beer-selling, 
after I had sold my barley for making it! 
If anybody could satisfy me that I am not 
doing a little to help on the spreading of a 
thing which harms my fellow-creatures in 
soul, body, and estate ! But no one does 
convince me to the contrary, ready as I am 
to catch at whatever favors my desires. 
They tell me that my barley is only a drop 
in the ocean ; that just about as much beer 
would be made* and sold — just about as 
much evil be done, if I never sold a bushel. 
That is true. I only add a little ; but this is 
not the point. In reality I am doing my 


344 How Billy went Up in the World \ 

utmost ; and if it is wrong to sell any of my 
barley for this purpose, I am doing all the 
wrong I am able to accomplish ; because the 
limit with me, is not the amount of evil, but 
the number of my acres.” No consolation 
came from that train of ideas. 

Billy turned and tossed, endeavoring to 
banish all thought in drowsiness ; but soon 
he had started on a new track. “ I am not 
absolutely sure this thing is wrong, so, as I 
cannot prove it, why not take the benefit of 
the doubt, and go on until the Lord makes it 
plain to me that I am sinning? He can do 
this. Is it wrong to think that He ought to 
do it, when I am in such perplexity ? How 
can I know of myself? ‘ If any man do His 
will, he shall know of the doctrine.’ Yes, 
but I am going in a circle. I do not know 
His will, so why may I not have my will ? 
I can have it by saying to this uneasy voice 
within : ‘ Be still but what if the voice 
really is my conscience, trying to enlighten 


“ What Shall the Harvest be?” 345 

me on my duty ? Why, then, forcibly silenc- 
ing it in this way deadens my moral sensi- 
bility. 

“ It is as true as the eternal truth, that if 
a man blunts his perception of right and 
wrong in regard to one line of conduct, he 
inevitably makes himself duller in distinguish- 
ing between good and evil in all other modes 
of action. 

“ Can I afford to hurt my own soul ? 
Will I deliberately risk it, and if I do so, 
what will I risk, and what will I gain ? I 
have yet to choose between the doubtful and 
the positive ; between what may be, and 
what cannot but be right. 

“ Now if I sell barley, deciding that it 
may be all right, I shall make a good sum 
each year, and I need every cent I can make. 
I am morally bound to pay my debts. I can 
give a little to good enterprises in the pres- 
ent, and my future is more secure. I want 
to get on in the world. I might want to 


346 How Billy went Up in the World, 

marry. I don’t care to be any poorer, 
especially as the only wife I want has never 
been accustomed to pinching. It may be 
folly to think Nan Ellery will ever marry 
me, but while I have any hope, I do not 
want to act like a fool, or a fanatic. Mr. 
Ellery has always raised more or less barley. 
He might not oppose me, but he would 
think me more nice than wise. I do not 
wish to be that.' I will do right ; but I can- 
not afford to be over-righteous. It is hard 
enough for a man among men to be at par 
in this respect.” 

The tendency of this new track on which 
Billy had entered was rather downward, and 
he realized it with a little self-disgust ; but 
not until he had said to himself : 

“ Nan Ellery would not be pleased with 
such a new departure. She thinks her 
father one of the best men on earth, and it 
would look to her as if I had taken it on 
myself to be better than the man who taught 


“ What Shall the Harvest be?” 347 


me what right and wrong meant — as if I 
fancied myself moved by higher, finer princi- 
ples. A litde thing may turn her against 
me ; and I may lose more than money, if I 
do what looks fanatical in this barley busi- 
ness.” 

Billy was by nature independent, but he 
was sensitive, and fond of approbation. He 
had worked his way up toward a place 
among men, in the face of obstacles ; and he 
did not like to fall, in the least degree, in 
any one’s opinion, or to lose a bit of his per- 
sonal influence. If any one thinks this igno- 
ble, let him ask himself if it would cost no 
effort suddenly to depart from the settled 
custom of all about him — surely to arouse 
the prejudices of friends and neighbors t 
Above all, if he were making the first move, 
not out of absolute conviction that he must 
be right, but out of the belief that in not do- 
ing it he might be wrong ? There is a dif- 
ference in the moral hercrism of actions 


348 How Billy went Up in the World. 

prompted by these two motives. In the 
first case one can have the enthusiasm of a 
bearer of light into darkness ; in the other 
case, he is only feeling his way steadily 
through darkness toward a hoped-for light. 
Hour after hour passed, and it was almost 
day before Billy slept. The battle had be- 
gun, but was not to end in one night. 


CHAPTER XIX. 


NAN MAKES A DISCOVERY. 

HAT, to Billy, memorable evening in 



May, when he had walked down the 
lane with Nan, had been forgotten by neither 
of the young people. Billy could never de- 
cide whether or not he regretted enlightening 
Nan as to his sentiments toward her. The 
result might have been the same had he 
waited longer, and the disappointment on 
his part would have been greater. 

Nan, on that occasion, had been too much 
surprised to feel very sorry for the young 
man who so suddenly made known his secret, 
never guessed by her. She had no thought 
of marrying any one, at present, and certainly 
not any one whom she had known and patro- 


350 • How Billy went Up in the World. 

nized as she had known Billy Knox. She 
was just a little annoyed, over and above 
her astonishment. It would be excessively 
tiresome to have any one so intimate with 
her parents, “ sighing around after her 
but if Nan was not sentimental, neither was 
Knox one of the sighing sort. He let her 
severely alone for a while, and when he 
came to see her father, he was apparently as 
full as ever of business, of energy, and hu- 
mor. In time, he ceased to avoid her, while 
he did not seek her society. 

It was natural for Nan, in the days that 
followed, living so placid a life at the quiet 
farm-house, to give rather more thought to 
young Knox’s character, disposition, and 
circumstances, than she might have given 
had her own life been fuller of excitement. 
It was as well for Billy, perhaps, that he did 
not know Nan Ellery was making a study 
of him, in the year that succeeded her re- 
fusal of his love. She reflected on what 


Nan Makes a Discovery. 351 

other men said of him ; she learned to know 
some things about him through the Barnards, 
and, on the whole, her interest in him grew 
rapidly. She assured herself that she should 
all her life “ regard him as a brother.” 

That day when they sat in the shaded old 
stone porch, one side from the tumult of the 
Fourth of July celebration, she had made 
him tell her a good deal about himself, his 
plans on the farm, his ideas of the Young 
Men’s Association, to be formed later. 
They had talked of the books lately read, 
and found their tastes in concord. 

Nan went home resolved to make more of 
their acquaintance in the future. Acting, 
later in the season, on this determination, 
she was somewhat piqued to find the young 
man rather unresponsive and pre-occupied. 
She could not know of the perplexity in 
which he was involved, and therefore con- 
cluded he had lost all his former affection for 
her. If she valued Billy’s peace of mind, 


35 2 How Billy went Up in the World. 

this conclusion ought to have given her sat- 
isfaction ; as it was, she felt in some way de- 
frauded, and almost indignant, in a feminine 
and irrational way. An interview, about 
this time, with Prissy Barnard, did not soothe 
her ruffled spirits. 

Nan had gone over to the cottage one 
afternoon on an errand, and finding Prissy 
alone with the children, had seated herself 
for a little chat. They discussed the num- 
ber of buttons to be put on Jack’s new jacket 
and the propriety of cutting Jill’s hair; then 
Prissy’s lively tongue wagged on to all kinds 
of irrelevant topics, and in time she came to 
Billy, remarking: 

“ If he was not in splendid health, I should 
say he was overworked ; as it is I believe he 
has something on his mind, he keeps up 
such a solemn thinking all the time when he 
isn’t at work. He is pleasant, but not full of 
fun, as he used to be.” 

Nan made no comment, but she looked 


Nan Makes a Discovery . 353 

interested, so Prissy continued: “ If he were 
not so busy all day, I should say he was 
lonesome. I dont suppose Si and I are very 
good company for him. He is better educa- 
ted, he likes to talk about books he reads, 
and of things we never heard of before.” 

“ Oh, I have no doubt he finds you excel- 
lent company, Prissy. I am sure I always 
enjoy your society.” 

“ Why, I aint a fool, but you know what I 
mean. I was real glad when Mrs. Fenton 
began to be so friendly.” 

‘‘Mrs. Fenton — Ned’s mother? Why, I 
thought she went away after Ned’s death.” 

“ So she did go, but she is back again 
now, and for Ned’s sake she seems to keep 
a 'great interest in Billy.^ She has driven 
out here several times, and has sent for him 
to come and see her. He has been too, and 
said he enjoyed his visit. She has got a 
right pretty neice with her, Kate Fenton ; 
and between you and me, Nan, I fancied 

23 


354 How Billy went Up in the World. 

that had something to do with his liking to 
go — yes, and his thoughfulness nowadays.” 

It seldom made any difference with Mrs. 
Barnard whether or not her hearers talked ; 
she was even more inspired if they only list- 
ened, as Nan did at this time. 

“ Sometimes I think he imagines any 
young woman he would like might look 
down on him, because of his coming up from 
nothing, as you might say, and he is not go- 
ing to take up with any poor stick, I can tell 
you.; he has his own ideas, Billy has, of 
good looks, good manners, and good sense. 
I’d sort of encourage him about this Fenton 
girl, if I dared. I saw her in the carriage 
with her aunt, and she smiled on him gra- 
ciously enough.” 

“Yes, Kate is a famous smiler,” said Nan, 
rather indiscreetly. 

“ Do you know her ? ” 

“ She was in school with me at Sefton.” 

“ Isn’t she a nice girl ? ” 


Nan Makes a Discovery. 355 

“ Entirely so, for anything I know to the 
contrary; she is very amiable,” replied Nan, 
suppressing a savage desire to add that she 
did not know enough to be anything else. 
The idea of Billy selecting Kate Fenton for 
a wife was exceedingly unpleasant to Miss 
Ellery. In her estimation Kate was in no 
respect suited to understand him or to make 
him happy. She remained a half hour longer 
with Prissy, but while the latter talked con- 
tinuously in a very amusing style, what she 
had already said made by far the deepest 
impression. 

Prissy had in her day done Billy many a 
good turn, but never one for which he had 
reason to be more grateful than for this 
effect of her speculative gossip. By the time 
Nan Ellery had satisfied herself exactly why 
she did not care to have Billy marry her old 
schoolmate, she would be much wiser and 
meeker than she had been hitherto, if not as 
happy. 


356 How Billy went Up in the World. 

It was late in the afternoon when Nan 
started for home, going by the pleasant old 
lane in which she seldom met any one. The 
Barnard children had made a rude seat in a 
shaded place half way between the houses, 
and here Nan stopped to watch the long 
shadows — the sunset light — or to think. She 
was startled by a very near shadow and a 
voice : “ I have a message for you, and I for- 
get it every time I see you.” 

“ Then tell it at once, by all means,” she 
replied, adding hastily: “You startled me 
— you came so suddenly.” 

Knox had stepped out from the near pas- 
ture rather abruptly, but he saw no reason 
why Nan should burn rose color with fright; 
as a puzzle he let it go, as a fact he thought 
it vastly becoming. 

He leaned against the stone wall and said : 
“ One day some weeks ago, I promised a 
Miss Kate Fenton, who lives with Ned’s 
mother, to tell you that she would like to 


Nan Makes a Discovery. 357 

renew her school acquaintance with you, and 
she wished that you would come to see her. 
I go there occasionally to see Mrs. Fenton ; 
she is very friendly to me for the sake of old 
Academy days, and I ventured to say I 
would ask you to ride over with me and call 
some day.” 

Nan was intently arranging a bunch of 
golden rod which she had plucked from the 
hedge, but she said, not very enthusiastically : 
“ O yes ; I will go sometime — not very 
soon, however.” 

She waited for him to leave her, but he 
was in no haste. 

“ Sometimes, Miss Nan, I wish I had taken 
your advice, and not been a farmer.” 

“ My advice ? I never gave you any !” 

“ Not all duly labelled as such, perhaps, 
but you suggested several times that I would 
find it a stupid life.” 

“ And is it proving so ?” 

“ Not a bit of it. It is exciting enough foi 


358 How Billy went Up in the World. 

me, and gives me plenty to think about.” 

“ What ails you, then ?” she asked ; and in 
an instant was provoked at her own question. 
It did not confuse Billy in the least, although 
he looked a little grave, and as Prissy had 
said, preoccupied. 

“ Well, I might say it gives me too much 
to think about.” 

“ Perhaps you worry ; you must learn to 
take things easy.” 

“ They take me, and not easily.” 

She went on pulling her golden rod apart 
now. 

“ They say a woman’s intuitions are keener 
than a man’s. I wish I could borrow yours 
for a while,” he said, gravely. 

“ What would you do with them ?” 

“Try to tell what I ought to do in a sea- 
son of perplexity.” 

“ Do what you wish to do, unless it is 
wrong,” said Nan, rather coldly, for her un- 
derstanding of him was wide of the mark. 


Na?i Makes a Discovery. 359 

“ I fear I can’t make up my mind.” 

“You are not very "much in earnest then.” 

“ I am in earnest to have my own way 
and prove to myself that it is right.” 

“Well, your own conscience can be de- 
pended on,” Nan replied, relieved to think it 
must be a question of duty, not of sentiment. 
“ But my intuition is that if you are trying 
earnestly to*prove it is right — it is probably 
wrong. Right proves itself. The trouble 
we have is generally to get away from it ; not 
to get at it.” 

“You speak like a Pythoness ; but there is 
no comfort in your answer,” said Billy; and 
then suddenly changing the subject, he de- 
tained Nan to talk of one thing after another, 
of little account. 

It was pleasant to be with her there in the 
twilight, and when they separated Nan was 
undeniably pleased to reflect that Prissy 
might be mistaken in regard to the state of 
young Knox’s mind, and the cause of his 


360 How Billy went Up in the World ’ 

thoughtfulness. However, if she gave con- 
siderable heed to the bit of gossip — she gave 
more thought to herself. She had rather 
underrated Billy, and realizing it, she could 
understand that Kate Fenton had naturally 
enough taken him at his true value. He was 
indeed, a very manly, attractive fellow. She 
had found this out, only rather late. 


CHAPTER XX. 


THE SAME QUESTION. 

TVT OT far from the Barnards, in a tumble- 
^ ^ down cabin, lived a man who often 
worked for Billy and Si. He was able-bod- 
ied ; and when not under the influence of 
liquor, a good worker, a kind husband and 
father. When he patronized Holmes he was 
as lazy as he was quarrelsome. Knox fre- 
quently let himself be annoyed in his farm 
work by keeping the man in his employ ; but 
nobody else would have him, and his poor 
wife knew how to plead her case with Billy. 
The latter had done his best for two years to 
pull Wilson out of the slough of drunken- 
ness, and sometimes succeeded in arousing 
in him transient good resolutions. During 


362 How Billy went Up in the World, 

the harvest work, Wilson had done well and 
kept his promise to Knox not to go near 
Holmes, but later in the fall he was repeat- 
edly tipsy. To Billy’s surprise, he stoutly 
maintained, when argued with, that he had 
not bought a glass of beer or any liquor in 
Holmes’ house for weeks ; and inquiry con- 
firmed his statement. The mystery was 
solved when his wife came crying to Knox 
with a piteous story of poverty and distress. 
She said that for all practical purposes of 
ugliness, Wilson could get as drunk on hard 
cider as on whiskey, and he had been getting 
it all along back of a neighboring farmer. 

Indignant at any man who, knowing Wil- 
son’s failing, would sell him the wherewith 
to make his family so wretched, Knox re- 
solved at once to go and appeal to his neigh- 
bor’s better nature. He was not a man who 
professed to be moved by any religious prin- 
ciple, so Billy simply told him of the poverty 
in Wilson’s home, and the ill-treatment of 


The Same Question . 363 

his wife and children which followed every 
“ spree.” 

“ If I don’t let him have cider, Holmes will 
sell him liquor, which is worse for him by 
far,” said the farmer, who stood by his horse 
by the gate, being about to start for Sefton. 

“ He promised me not to go near Holmes, 
and he has kept his word. Now, when he 
can’t get drink he earns enough to keep the 
whole family in comfort.” 

“Yes, but he can get hard cider any time 
he wants it ; if I refused him he would only 
go a little farther for it.” 

“ I don’t know about that, Jones. I think 
there are not many men about here, who 
would let him have it if they knew the effect 
on him,” returned Knox. 

Coloring at the implied reproof, the far- 
mer retorted : “ Nonsense ! You may think 
you are lively leaven with your temperance 
notions, but you haven’t leavened the whole 
lump yet !” 


364 How Billy went Up in the World. 

“I did not come to talk ‘notions,’ but to 
tell you that there was nothing to eat in 
Wilson’s house last night. He was as ugly 
as sin, and your cider was at the bottom of 
all the trouble.” 

“ Humph ! If he makes a beast of him- 
self, I’m not to blame — not a bit of it.” 

Billy broke out rather vehemently, and 
ended by offering to pay Jones down a sum 
equal to the amount he would get from Wil- 
son in return for the hard cider, if Jones 
would agree not to sell him any more that 
year. His words were too plain to be 
agreeable, and Jones, in a sudden heat, turn- 
ed on Billy, with the outburst : “ See here, 

young man, I aint the only fellow who wants 
to make a little money in the cider business. 
Hard cider had to be sweet first. What did 
you do with your waste apples this fall? 
Didn’t I see you carting off several loads to 
the cider mill ?” 

“ Yes.” 


The Same Question . 


3^5 


“Jess so: Well, I bought my cider over 
there, made out of your apples, as likely as 
not. You got your pay at that end, and I’m 
making a trifle at this. When you stop sell- 
ing cider apples, come over here and I’ll 
hear you lecture me for selling what is made 
out of them. I hav’n’t got time now.” So 
saying, Jones flung himself into his rattling 
old wagon and was off, leaving behind him 
as discomfited a man as could well be found. 

“ There may not be much sense in such 
speeches,” thought Knox, as he walked 
home ; “ but I don’t want my mouth stopped 
by one every time I get much in earnest. 
There seems only one way to silence such 
fellows as Holmes and Jones, and that is to 
say I sell no barley for beer, no apples for 
cider; but if people even now assume that I 
have somewhat radical opinions, how they 
will sift me if I take on others which they 
will consider entirely superfine. I shall 
have to go to the end of every road that 


366 How Billy went Up in the World. 

opens before me. If it is not wrong for me 
to stay where I am, I wish I might cease to 
be so tormented by doubts of my position.” 

With these thoughts Knox walked on, 
while a curious temptation beset him. He 
reflected that every man at his best was a 
sinner in God’s sight ; that he must live and 
die as a sinner, only entering heaven be- 
cause of a free forgiveness of his sins. Why 
should he then strive so hard to be better 
than his neighbors, when it counted for noth- 
ing, after all, if one’s utmost righteousness 
was filthy rags? 

The Christian who does a little more and 
the one who does * a little less, each enters 
on the career of blessedness hereafter. It is 
only a question of somewhat more forgive- 
ness on God’s part, and his mercy is infinite. 
Moreover, the Bible says, that whosoever 
shall keep the whole law and yet offend in 
one point, he is guilty of all ; so why, if he 
must be at fault anyway, under the law, why 


The Same Question . 


367 


put such emphasis on one particular sin, 
which some theologians would call venial ? 

For a moment this plausible suggestion 
gave Billy a certain relief, until he recalled a 
passage like this: “If we sin wilfully, after 
that we have received the knowledge of the 
truth, there remaineth no more sacrifice for 
sin, but a certain fearful looking for of judg- 
ment and for one to sin out of calculation 
on the Divine mercy — not knowing that the 
“goodness of God leadeth to repentance,” 
— what madness was this? 

Knox was first startled, then ashamed. 
Was he, after all, only living a Christian life 
in order to escape wrath and win heaven ? 
No, he could honestly answer that he loved 
the light because it was light, that he re- 
joiced in the thought of living a life getting 
more and more Christ-like until that day 
when he should be “ like Him,” for he 
should “ see Him as He is.” But “ every man 
that hath this hope in him purifieth himself.” 


3 68 How Billy went Up in the World. 

“ If I can’t explain away some few things 
that I have learned out of granny’s old Bible,” 
he ejaculated, “ the Christian in me will never 
get this barley matter settled as the farmer 
in me wants to see it settled. Poor, daft 
old woman, what a change she made in my 
life, and how well I remember the first verse 
of her book to which I ever gave a thought. 
Ben was too tired one night, so I read about 
the ‘ Children of Ephraim,’ who being armed 
and carrying bows turned back in the day of 
battle, and I asked her if they would not 
fight. She looked at me with that far off 
expression in her faded blue eyes, and said 
she could not tell, but she believed they were 
able to do what they ought to do only they 
were not willing. Maybe there is a rem- 
nant of the children of Ephraim left in the 
land to this day. I believe I might find one 
of them in my size boots,” muttered Billy, with 
a shrug of his broad shoulders as he opened 
the gate and went in to dinner. 


CHAPTER XXL 


THE QUESTION ANSWERED. 

TT^NOX wanted a Young glen’s Christian 
-^^“Association. He wanted temperance 
reform, but never since he had the ability to 
speak in public did he want less to talk about 
the evils of intemperance. Now this was ex- 
actly what was required of him late in the fall 
of his second farm year. It came along in 
the line of Christian work. It was what he 
had done the year before, and none of his 
friends saw any reason why he should not 
give again an informal lecture or address to 
the “ young people.” They said “ young 
people,” but there was always as many mid- 
dle-aged men in the school-house as there 
were youth. 

24 


370 How Billy went Up in the World, 

Knox was not even allowed to decide 
whether he would or would not speak. No- 
tice was sent to him that he must, and word 
that he would do so was spread around the 
community. The day before the time set 
Billy shut himself up in his room, and 
Prissy informed Silas that he was not to 
be disturbed, as probably he was composing 
his speech. 

They heard him walking restlessly, and 
when the dinner-bell was rung he paid no 
attention, but they were mistaken : Billy was 
not thinking how to move others ; he was 
trying to quiet himself. The time had come 
for him to settle this barley question. He 
could say to no other man : “ You ought,” 
until he had himself said “ I will,” or, “I will 
not.” He did not pray that he might see 
his duty, for he saw it. He did pray, how- 
ever, after this fashion : first, he stated his 
case to the Lord, and in a reverent way pro- 
posed a sort of compromise. He would give 


The Question Answered. 37 1 

up barley raising, if he could be assured that 
in some other way, he should have prosper- 
ity enough to balance his loss, and enable 
him to meet his obligations. 

He could find no words to finish, for when 
half done, he saw it to be a bargain, not a 
true prayer. 

“ You had better come to dinner,” called 
Silas, after a while, and he wondered at the 
reply : 

“ I can’t now — I am doing a tough day’s 
work.” 

When he did come down, Prissy ex- 
claimed’* “ Why, you look almost pale 1 I 
didn’t suppose speech-making was hard work 
for you !” 

“ It is not always ; but, perhaps, I shall 
astonish some people to-night.” 

He spoke quietly, not in fun, or mock 
boasting. 

Silas glanced up curiously : “ How are 
you going to work to do it?” 


37 2 How Billy went Up in the World. 

“ Next year I shall raise only barley 
enough for use on this farm. I have sold 
the last bushel for beer-making that I shall 
ever sell. I am convinced it is all wrong, 
and I am going to say so.” 

Neither Silas nor Prissy had had any idea 
of the long struggle Billy had undergone, 
before he could say these words. Prissy, in 
her surprise, dropped a dipper on the idol’s 
head, and Silas gave one prolonged whistle. 
Billy smiled cheerfully ; now that the battle 
was ended, he was at rest, and happier than 
for months. 

“ If Ellery always had the name of being 
too good for every day, because he would not 
lie on a horse-trade, what do you s’pose the 
common run of folks ’ll take you for ?” was 
Silas’ first utterance. 

“ A fool, very likely.’* 

“ And what will Ellery himself say ?” 

“ Si, I don’t care what anybody says ! 
You need not bother to tell me from this day 


The Question Answered . 373 

on. Now, give me another dumpling, 
Prissy.” 

She gave him one, and, woman like, took 
rather a finer view of the case than her lord. 

“After all, people like to see other people 
follow their consciences, hit or miss, through 
fire and water, even if they aint prepared to 
follow. One thing is sure — when you talk 
temperance hereafter, nobody 'll call you a 
hypocrite.” 

“ How will you ever pay for this farm ?” 
asked Silas, in his turn ; but when Billy re- 
plied that he had not “the least idea,” he let 
that matter drop, knowing it must be far 
from pleasant to contemplate. 

It was a beautiful evening, and the school- 
house was very full. From the first word 
uttered by Knox, it was evident that he was 
in the best mood to interest and impress his 
hearers. The preamble of his talk was ear- 
nest, and to the point; but he said about 


374 How Billy went Up in the World. 

what it was expected he would say. A little 
later there was a new stir, a sudden curious 
animation visible on the faces turned toward 
him. 

What was this talk of beer and of barley 
raising ? Mr. Ellery, who was getting deaf, 
could hardly trust his ears, when with the 
simple assertion that henceforth he should 
raise no barley for sale, or sell no apples for 
cider, Knox went on to tell why he believed 
it wrong. Not one word of his personal ex- 
perience or his struggles with his conscience 
did he intend to tell ; only to give his con- 
victions of right and wrong. Nevertheless, 
no man save one to whom the whole ques- 
tion was of intense practical interest, could 
have talked as Knox talked that night. 
Even old farmers, who shook their heads 
and heard him with placid spirits, wondered 
to themselves “what had got into the fellow, 
to make hint so wide awake ? ” 

An animated discussion followed the 


The Question Answered . 375 

speech. Knox had thrown a stone into wa- 
ters which would not soon again be perfectly 
calm. No one entirely agreed with him ; a 
few commended his consistency, more were 
wildly contemptuous of his “ fanaticism,” 
some were rasped and sarcastic. 

When the meeting broke up, Billy was 
first aware that the Ellerys were there, and 
with them Stanton. Sometime he might 
care what they thought of his opinions, but 
just then he only desired to get home, after 
the mental wear and tear of the day. He 
was passing out of the door, when some one 
shook his shoulder. He turned to hear 
Stan Ellery’s voice, and to see Nan’s face. 

“ Well, Billy, you are as bound to make a 
sensation as you were when you started for 
Texas; but I’m afraid you wont get any 
more followers ! You’ve set a fashion that 
costs too much.” 

On Nan’s face was an expression half 
scornful, half disapproving. 


376 How Billy went Up in the World ' 

Stan’s words were as nothing to Knox in 
the quick pain that look gave him. He did 
indeed care greatly what one person thought 
of him. He had hoped against hope that 
she would understand his motives, would 
sympathize with him to a certain degree, 
even if she held contrary opinions. He ban- 
ished his disappointment as best he could, 
and thankfully experienced one great satisfac- 
tion : he was at peace with himself, and in 
the days to come he did not lose this best of 
all possessions, an approving conscience. 

As a matter of course, Knox’s new depart- 
ure in the temperance reform was talked of 
among all his friends and acquaintances, from 
that time on. No remarkable results fol- 
lowed. The whole question had been first 
to him purely a personal one. He had not 
the least notion of inaugurating a crusade of 
any sort, or even of making converts ; but 
such a decision and such an avowal of it, 
could not be without effect. Knox himself 


The Question Answered . 377 

was a better, a stronger man for it. He had 
hedged himself in from similar temptations, 
had committed himself on the side of right. 
It was, also, true, that the very men who 
criticised his strictness received a new convic- 
tion of his honesty and uprightness. A few 
farmers were troubled just a little by the 
way Billy put this barley matter, and they 
resolved to think it over, to justify their sow- 
ing this crop in the future. Billy was al- 
most sure how the thing would end with 
several : they would do as he had done. 


CHAPTER XXII. 


MRS. BARNARDS SLIGHT MISTAKE. 

^ TF this is not the Indian Summer, it 
ought to be,” said Mrs. Barnard, stand- 
ing in the open door one noon of a Novem- 
ber day. She spoke to Billy, who, coming 
toward the house, had stopped to look at the 
red leaves still left on the trees. He replied : 

“Yes — only it is the fourth Indian Sum- 
mer you have recognized this season ; how- 
ever, I never saw bluer sky this time of year. 
It is a splendid day.” 

“I reckon Nan Ellery thought the same, 
for she was over here this morning, and ” — 
A loud screech from Urban, who was 
pinching his finger in a clothes-pin, cut Mrs. 
Barnard’s remarks short. Billy wished that 


Mrs. Barnard's Slight Mistake . 379 

he could have seen Nan, whom he had not 
met since the Temperance meeting, two 
weeks previous. She had been at the cot- 
tage and* he had been at her home, but al- 
ways missing one another, as to day. 

The child pacified, his mother turned 
again to Billy: “Yes, Nan was here, and 
she asked me to tell you that any time you 
appointed she would go with you to see that 
Miss Fenton. I told her likely as not you 
could go this very afternoon as well as any 
other time, though of course that would be 
for you to say.” 

“It is just the day for a drive ! ” said 
Billy, with alacrity, so pleased with Miss 
Ellery’s message that he was ready for a 
frolic with the victim of the clothes-pin. 

Somewhat later, as he made ready to go 
after Nan, he was alternately happy in the 
prospect of a few hours in her society, and 
then provoked at himself for being thus hap- 
py. His devotion to her was only rewarded 


380 How Billy went Up in the World. 

with carelessness, coolness, and last of all with 
what seemed not unlike contempt. He 
assured himself it made no difference what 
she thought of him, and in so far as her sup- 
posed opinion having any influence on his 
conduct was concerned, he was right ; but he 
knew it did affect his spirits. 

As he drove down the road toward Mr. 
Ellery’s, he said to himself, that after this 
day he would turn over a new leaf. It was 
high time he stopped thinking so much of 
Nan. There were other girls in the world. 
This very Kate Fenton they were going to 
see lavished no end of smiles and pleasant 
words on him. She did not look down on 
him. His countenance was quite stern for a 
moment before he opened the Ellery door ; 
but when Nan greeted him with a smile as 
radiant as Miss Fenton’s own, and ex- 
claimed : “ Oh, I am glad you could go to- 
day ! I will be ready right away !” Knox’s 
heart went up with a bound it would 


Mrs. Barnard's Slight Mistake 381 

not have given for any other of all those 
girls the world contained. 

She was ready in a minute, and they start- 
ed off in the golden light of the rarely beau- 
tiful afternoon. At every turn of the pleas- 
ant old road was something pretty or pic- 
turesque, some walls covered with gorgeous 
vines or a hedge of flaming sumach. Nan 
found it worth while to talk of such things, 
but Billy was more interested in loveliness 
nearer to him — in seeing that the red roses 
in Nan's bonnet matched the tint of her 
cheeks, and similar quiet observations. 

“ Do you know that Stanton Ellery is go- 
ing to Europe ? ” she asked, at last. 

“ No indeed, I did not. What sends him 
there ? ” 

“ He says he wants to see the world. 
He came to visit us a while ago, the night 
you talked in the school-house — perhaps you 
remember he was there. (Billy remembered 
onlv too well.) He came to talk his trip over 


382 How Billy went Up in the World . 

with father, who thinks it is very foolish, all 
things considered ; but Stan is his own mas- 
ter now, and unfortunately he has plenty of 
money.” 

“ Then you do not think it is only the 
poor man who is unfortunate ? ” 

“ Certainly not ! If Stan had his own way 
to make in the world, he might keep out of 
mischief oftener than he does now. Nothing 
father could say had any real effect. He 
did not deny that he drank too much, and 
gambled. He acknowledged that he ought 
not to have such habits, but there he stop- 
ped, as he always stops. There are people 
of whom — when once you have made them 
admit a course to be wrong — you have a be- 
lief that all will be well ; that their wrong 
doing will end ; but this is not true of Stan.” 

Billy, knowing all about Stan’s failings 
already, paid most attention to one part of 
Nan’s remark, and with this in his mind he 
said : “ No, Stan is not likely to go to the 


Mrs. Barnard' s Slight Mistake . 383 

stake for his principles, or even to be fanati- 
cal. But I imagine you do not like fanatics,” 
he added, in a tone so peculiar that Nan gave 
him a sharp glance, as she returned : 

“ I don’t know what you mean.” 

“Why, if the wrong that a man thought 
he was doing seemed not wrong in your 
eyes, — and he ceased it, you, having no 
knowledge of the workings of his conscience, 
and only seeing what you considered an 
error of his judgment, — you would probably 
sneer at him.” 

“ I should not do any such a thing, Billy 
Knox, and you have no right to say that I 
would !” Nan exclaimed, warmly. 

She had not called him “ Billy,” before, in 
several years ; and now, not waiting for him 
to speak, she went on : “I do not call it an 
error of judgment for any man ever to cease 
doing what his conscience tells him is wrong; 
besides I never sneer at such things. What 
do you mean ?” 


3 84 How Billy went Up in the World, 

“ We might as well have it out, once for 
all,” thought Billy, getting a little excited, 
and therefore speaking more bluntly than he 
might otherwise have done. 

“ I mean that I have given up raising bar- 
ley, for instance, and you, who think barley 
raising right and justifiable — you, I pre- 
sume, have called me a fanatic. I supposed 
that you — that people would do so, and it 
made no difference with me ; but that night 
when you came out of the school-house with 
Stan, I thought — that is, I was sure you 
were thinking” — 

He stammered, and for a man who did 
not care, strangely enough, there was some- 
thing of pain in his tone. It touched her, 
and caused her to answer impulsively : “ I 
was thinking just this : ‘ How can a man 

like Stan Ellery have any idea of a moral 
issue or of a sacrifice for the sake of a prin- 
ciple?’ He said something very provoking 
and patronizing to you. I did feel indignant, 


Mrs. Barnard's Slight Mistake . 385 

and perhaps I showed a sudden contempt 
for him. I never had any clear opinion at 
all on barley raising for breweries before 
your plain talk that night ; so you cannot say 
I thought it all right. That you were acting 
conscientiously I did know, and I honored 
you for it. I don’t know why you should 
think me incapable of understanding you,” 
she continued, her voice a trifle tremulous, 
when looking up, she saw the young man’s 
eyes shining through a suspicious moisture. 

He reddened and laughed a little, saying : 
“ Maybe a phrenologist would say I have a 
big bump signifying a love of approbation, 
for all I think myself rather independent in 
action. Anyway, I do care infinitely what 
you think of me. Once, years ago, you said 
I did not know anything, and you refused to 
teach such a heathen. I was angry enough 
then — as angry as I am glad now to — to ” — • 
While he hesitated how to express him- 
self, she suggested : “ To know that I am not 
25 


386 How Billy went Up in the World. 

quite so worldly minded — so incapable of 
distinguishing right from wrong as you sup- 
pose I was. If you were hurt by a * sneer ’ 
not intended for you, I certainly am not 
flattered in learning the impression you have 
formed of me.” 

“ I told you once what I thought of you,” 
said Billy, in a low tone; “but I had to 
cease before I had told half. If I dared to 
go on now, it would be the same story, 
grown truer and stronger.” 

Not having asked any question, he need 
not have expected any answer ; at any rate 
he received none, and wondered much of 
what Nan was thinking in the short interval 
before they reached the Fenton homestead. 

Ned’s mother was very cordial in her wel- 
come, and Miss Kate, her niece, was effusive 
in her demonstrations of pleasure at renew- 
ing her acquaintance with Nan. She was a 
pretty, shallow creature, and possibly Nan 
might not have felt so comfortable under her 


Mrs. Barnard's Slight Mistake. 387 

incessant attentions, but for that unanswered 
speech of her companion on the way hither. 
If it were a true one (and she knew it was), 
Knox was not coming to see Miss Fenton 
with any such fancies as Prissy had attrib- 
uted to him. 

They made a long informal call ; then 
refusing urgent invitations to remain to tea, 
they started again toward home ; but when 
once on the way Billy seemed in no hurry. 
It pleased Nan to make him talk of himself, 
and with true feminine art she led him on to 
tell her more than he could have believed 
possible under other circumstances ; but she 
was singularly gentle and sympathizing. 

About half way home, they stopped a 
moment at the gate of a farm-house to 
speak to a man who had some -business with 
Billy, and who wanted to make an appoint- 
ment to meet him later. This done, they 
were about to drive on, when the farmer 
suggested : “We could attend to it now, 


388 Haw Billy went Up in the World. 

if you wanted to wait. Let your wife come 
right in the house, — wont you ?” he asked, 
turning to Nan. 

“ We could not possibly do it to-night, 
Mr. Parker,” explained Billy promptly. 
“ Next week is time enough.” 

He drove a little way before he looked 
down mischievously at Nan, who was trying 
not to blush, and failing beautifully. 

“ How happy I should be if that man had 
not made a mistake !” 

There was something about her silence 
that did not altogether dishearten the speak- 
er, and he became more earnest : “ If some 
things were different — if I were better off in 
the world, and — would you marry me under 
any circumstances, Nan ?” 

“ I don’t know what I would do if every- 
thing was different. I always decide on 
people and things as they are,” she replied 
softly, yet longing to tease. 

“You would not marry me now?” 


Mrs. Barnard's Slight Mistake . 389 

“ Certainly not — you have not asked me.” 

He did exactly what he had hitherto con- 
sidered quite reprehensible : he asked the only 
daughter of the rich man to marry him — a 
poor man— to marry without waiting until he 
made his fortune. His only excuse was that 
he loved her, and because she loved him she 
agreed to marry him without any fortune. 

Neither of them knew in what light Mr. 
Ellery would view their engagement, but 
Nan was much more hopeful of his approval 
than was Billy. 

The latter was not conceited, while Nan 
thought she understood her father’s affection 
for Billy, and what perhaps was an equally 
good basis for counting on his consent — his 
respect for the young man’s character, his 
faith in Knox’s ultimate success in life. 

As they separated in the twilight, Nan 
said : “I shall quote father’s own words to 
him. He has always told me to choose for 
my husband a man of firm principles, a work- 


390 How Billy went Up in the World. 

er, respected by other men, and one I loved. 
Now I have done it.” 

After such a speech it was not remarkable 
that Billy returned to the cottage in a mood 
so exuberantly joyful that Prissy believed 
the “Fenton affair” must be an accom- 
plished fact. Probably he had taken Nan 
over to be introduced to his future wife. 
Now, after having held her peace so long, 
she reflected that it was “ high time ” that 
Billy rewarded her friendship with a little 
more confidence. 

Accordingly this night, after Silas and 
the children were out of the way, she re- 
marked : “ I presume you had a pleasant call 
at the Fenton’s?” 

“ Oh, very pleasant.” 

“ I can almost always tell when you have 
enjoyed anything, for you are in such good 
spirits afterwards. You are as bright as a 
button to-night.” 

“ I have seen some extremely dull buttons, 


Mrs. Barnard' s Slight Mistake . 391 

Mrs. Barnard, but I admit I am bright, and 
decidedly happy.” 

“ Has anything very particularly pleas- 
ant occurred ? ” inquired the artful Prissy, 
with a sympathetic inflection of her friendly 
voice. 

The young fellow walked back and forth 
once before he replied: “Yes, something 
very good has come to me. Nobody set 
adrift alone in this world ever found kinder 
friends than I found in the Ellerys, in you and 
Silas, and in others; but you can’t imagine how 
lonely one feels who is, after all, outside of a 
home circle, an individual quite by himself, be- 
longing to no one more than to another ” — 

“ Why yes,” interrupted Prissy. “ It must 
be perfectly doleful. I can understand it 
well. I came to this very cottage to take 
care of granny, because I was so lonesome I 
did not know what to do with myself. I 
suppose that was one reason you used to be 
so kind to her, she belonged to nobody but 


392 How Billy went Up in the World . 

the Lord. But what you need, Billy, now, is 
a wife.” 

“ I have found one this afternoon.” 

“ I just knew it!” she exclaimed. “ I said 
so to myself at supper, when you were 
peppering your peach sauce. It was evident 
you did not know what you were about.” 

“ I can tell you I do know what I am 
about,” protested Billy, laughing ; “ and I 
have not found her without taking worry 
and time and thought.” 

“Oh, you are too modest. I always knew 
she would accept you if you gave her a 
chance,” said Prissy, bluntly. Then seeing 
Billy’s rising indignation, she added quickly : 
“ It is nothing against her. Women can’t 
help reading one another like that. At least 
I never could help it ;” and Mrs. Barnard 
smoothed her white apron with an air of 
extreme complacency. 

“Well now, Prissy Barnard, I can inform 
you that Nan Ellery is not so easily read as” — 


Mrs. Barnard's Slight Mistake . 393 

“ Nan Ellery !” gasped Prissy. “ You don’t 
say you mean Nan !” 

“ Whom else under the sun could I 
mean ?” 

“ Why ! why ! I thought it was Kate 
Fenton !” 

“ That little whiffet ! O now, Prissy 
Barnard, is this a specimen of the way you 
read people’s minds ?” and Billy laughed 
aloud. 

Poor Prissy was well nigh extinguished, 
but she rallied at last, to express her appro- 
bation in the warmest terms. She was in- 
terrupted by Silas, who returned to fiddle 
for the twins’ entertainment, and who asked 
Billy if he was going out that evening. 

Knox answered that he was about starting 
for Mr. Ellery’s house. 

“ Oh, you are, are you ? Well, I often 
wonder why you aint more neighborly. The 
old gentleman seems to enjoy having a quiet 
chat with you most any time.” 


394 How Billy went Up in the World. 

“ Then I will give him an opportunity to- 
night,” said Billy, preparing to depart; Prissy 
meanwhile beaming on him like a full moon. 

An hour or two later Mr. Barnard would 
have been surprised, and Mrs. Barnard 
gratified, to have overheard the end of a 
long conversation between Mr. Ellery and 
young Knox. 

“ A thought of this occurred to me two or 
three years ago,” said the older man. “ It 
was suggested by something Prissy said to 
my wife, and I confess now I was annoyed. 
I did not like it. In plain English, I 
thought my daughter could do better. Later 
I concluded Prissy did not know what she 
was talking about, and my mind was at rest ; 
but I kept on watching you. I like you, and 
I believe in you — that is saying a good deal 
when a man gets to be my age. I used to 
think a fellow like Stan Ellery, we will say, 
starting with every advantage in early years, 
with plenty of money — all sails spread, so to 


Mrs. Barnard's Slight Mistake. 395 

speak — that he bade fair to make a very 
prosperous thing out of living. I have alter- 
ed my mind ; there is shipwreck ahead for 
him, for he has no fixed principles ; he con- 
trols himself by nothing less fluctuating than 
his will and his passions. I think it is other- 
wise with you. You have good habits, and 
no bad ones ; you are a man of honor, a con- 
sistent Christian, and your education is real- 
ly better and more practical to-day than 
Stans. 

“ Taking all this into consideration, with 
the fact that Nan moves her mother, and her 
mother moves me, and Nan has already 
said, “ Yes,” I might as well succumb grace- 
fully. — By the way, Billy, there is another 
matter I want to discuss with you. Some 
day, when you are over here (take a time 
when you and Nan have squabbled, as you 
frequently will do), we will go over this bar- 
ley question and sift it thoroughly. A man 
is never too old to learn better ways of living, 


396 How Billy went Up in the World ' 

and if this barley raising for beer is wrong 
for you, it is wrong for me.” 

Tears, of which Billy was not ashamed, 
filled his eyes, as he grasped Mr. Ellery’s 
hand, saying: “ If there is any good in me, I 
owe it, under God, to you. You were the 
first Christian man I ever knew, the first 
man to show me a boy must be earnest, 
honest and hardworking if he wants to be a 
true man. May God bless you for all your 
kindness to me and make me a £ood son to 
you.” 


FOR SUNDAY-SCHOOL LIBRARIES, 


The National Temperance Society ana Publication Housa 
have published one hundred and twenty volumes, written by 
some of the best authors in the land. These have been care- 
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These volumes have been cordially commended by leading 
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Circled hy Fire 40 

Come Home, Mother 60 

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Court, The 1 

Rachel Noble’s Experience 

Red Bridge, The 

Rev. Dr. Willoughby and 

his Wine 1 

Rex Ringgold’s SchooL... 1 

Ripley Parsonage 1 

Rose Clifton 1 

Rosa Leighton ; or, In His 

Strength 

Roy’s Search ; or. Lost in 

the Cars 1 

Saved — 1 

Silver Castle — 1 

Secret of Victory 

Seymours, The 1 

Sought and Saved 1 

Step by Step 

Strange Sea Story, A 1 

Sunsets on Mt. Blanc 1 

Temperance Doctor, The. 1 
Temperance Speaker, The. 
Temperance Anecdotes. .. 1 

Time will Tell 1 

Tim’s Troubles 1 

Tom Blinn’s Temperance 

Society .. 1 

Ten Cents 1 

True to his Colors 1 

Vow at the Bars 

Voice of the Home 1 

Wealth and Wine. 1 

White Hands and White 

Hearts 1 

White Rose, The 1 

Wife’s Engagement Ring, 

The 1 

Work and Reward 

Zoa Rodman 1 


Either of the above will he sent by mail, post-paid, on receipt of price. 

Address J. N. STEARNS, Publishing Agent, 

58 Iteade Street, New York. 


g§s gg g sags ggg 


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